romeo & juliet ; f.g

chapter three,

this already has 200 reads?? thank u aw.

side note before we start, a couple of people have dmed me that the 60s was a very homophobic time- trust me, i know. i have family who is queer who were teenagers back then, and it was a hard time for them. so please don't come at me. this is an au. au stands for alternate universe. geddit? it's not homophobic in this universe that i have created. thank u. 

xo

frank hadn't seen much of gerard since then. 

not that he minded- recently he and bob had been getting quite close, and frank was sure that bob would ask him out. any day now, he was sure of it. positive. 

but as he was walking home one night, a familiar figure was leaned against a streetlight, lighting a cigarette. alone. 

gerard smiled at frank, a genuine one, as if he was actually happy to see frank again, and frank flushed, smiling back. "hey, grease." 

"hey, sugar." gerard fell into step beside him, and frank rolled his eyes. "how have ya' been?"

"okay, i guess. you?" 

"'m okay," he replied quietly, looking away from frank. "just family drama." 

"we can talk about it, if you'd like," frank said, looking at gerard curiously. he didn't know where this desire to help and protect gerard came from, but it certainly was there. gerard looked surprised.

"nah, it's okay. how was school?" he tried to change the subject, and frank rolled his eyes again. 

"fine. it's boring, as usual. i hate school." gerard snickered at his response, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"that's why i don't go," he chuckled, and frank raised his eyebrows. 

"wow, never would've guessed-"

"cut the sarcasm, frankie," gerard giggled, and frank found himself giggling along. "i gotta high tail it early, though, sorry."

"why?" frank asked, and gerard shrugged.

"just family drama."

"but what happened-"

"just family drama. mind your own business," gerard grumbled, their lighthearted atmosphere draining. 

"you don't have to walk me home," frank said quietly after a minute, and gerard rolled his eyes now. 

"somebody gotta', we can't have ya' gettin' hurt, sugar," gerard sighed, frank's house coming into view. 

"i'll be fine," frank insisted, "we can even see my bloody house."

"not in that miniskirt," the greaser replied, and frank felt his cheeks turn crimson. 

"excuse me?" 

"well, i'm just sayin', the skirt leaves nothin' to the imagination," gerard smirked, throwing his cigarette on the ground and squashing it. 

"well- shut up," frank huffed, pulling the edges of his skirt down. gerard barked a laugh, and frank hit his shoulder, because his stomach started to feel like it was rolling over. they were almost to frank's house, though, so he could have pepto when he got home. "what do you do during the day if you don't go to school, anyway?" frank asked, and gerard shrugged.

"work," gerard replied simply, and frank nodded. 

"hm. okay. well, see ya' another time," frank said, flashing gerard a smile. gerard smirked back and frank's stomach flopped again, and he hurried to get inside his house. he slammed the door behind himself, leaning back against it once it was closed, breathing heavily. he needed that pepto, now.

a few days later, frank was walking home with bob. the two were holding hands and frank was swinging them, bob watching him adoringly as he jabbered about his day. bob pushed a few pieces of frank's hair out of his face, and frank paused for a moment, blushing. he grinned up at bob, who smiled back, squeezing his hand. frank continued to talk, and bob continued to gaze at him.

eventually, though, bob felt someone staring at them, (although frank was oblivious.) he looked across the street and saw someone he didn't recognize but instantly hated for their fashion- combat boots, denim jeans, a white cut-off tank top, and bright red-slicked back hair. a greaser, smoking a cigarette was leaning against a lamp-post just up the street, staring at them. 

bob tensed, and took his had out of frank's hand, and wrapped it around his waist protectively instead. frank squeaked, looking up at bob through his eyelashes. "what is it?" he asked, and bob smiled at him.

"nothin'," he replied casually, and frank just snuggled into his side as they walked. they got gradually closer to the man, who stomped out his cigarette, looking menacing. "you better stay on that side of the street, motherfucker. i'll knock you out!" bob called to him, watching the greaser chuckle a little at his words. 

frank gasped, finally noticing gerard, and sliding out of bob's grip. "babe, it's fine. i know him hey, gerard!" frank waved, and gerard strolled across the street, looking as tough as he could. 

"hey, sugar," the greaser replied, and bob narrowed his eyes, putting his hand back in frank's. "who's this?" he asked, sizing bob up. they were roughly the same size, so gerard didn't really have anything to worry about. 

"oh! gerard! this is bob, my boyfriend. the one i told you about? well, dallon, but you heard?" frank said excitedly, beaming at gerard, who melted. 

"yeah. nice to meet'cha'," gerard offered his hand to bob, who took it. "'m gerard." 

"bob bryar." bob shuffled uncomfortably, as he was looking forward to going home with his new boyfriend and watching movies and cuddling, but now there was this other guy who was distracting frank. 

"are you feelin' better?" frank asked gerard, who grinned at him.

"yeah, i guess. family's doing better," he said. frank nodded, and bob subtly squeezed his hand again. 

"well, we better go. got a long night," frank said, softer, and gerard nodded, pulling a pack of camels out of his back pocket. 

"okay. c'ya, sugar," gerard said, clearly saddened, and he began to stalk away back across and down the road. frank frowned at the sight. 

"where were we?" bob asked, and frank smiled softly at him.

"movies!" 

-

a/n

idk how to feel abt this

thoughts?