Stuck (Frerard)

Plans- Chapter 30

|Heh. Hope you like fluff. I'm not ready to write sad stuff just yet, although I have plans.|

Gerard's P.O.V.

"Is that okay?"

Is it okay? Of course it's okay. It's more than okay! It's my dream come true! Frank Iero is moving in with me! I know it's probably only temporary until his dad calms down, but still!

"Yeah totally," I reply as calm as possible. Frank smiles and stands up from his chair to walk over to me and kiss me on the forehead. I let out a sort of chuckle as he does this. I will never grow tired of his kisses. Frank steps away, but I stand up, use my hand to grab his hip, and pull him close to kiss him slowly on the lips. 

"Wow, thank you for that Gerard," he lets out a breathy laugh as I hug him tightly. I hope he's okay with all my hugs, because I don't plan on stopping them. Frank is a very huggable person. Not everybody is like that. We stand in my dining room in each others arms. I seem to hug Frank in the exact same position every time. It isn't intentional. I've noticed I always press my face into his left shoulder and squeeze him around the waist. I wonder if I hurt him, because I know when he used to get beat up, he would get blows to the stomach quite frequently. Even if he is pained through my embrace, he probably wouldn't have the heart to tell me. He's sweet like that. He looks so uninviting with his black hair, lip ring, and eyeliner, but really, he's just a big teddy bear. My teddy bear. 

"You haven't eaten today," Frank points out as he pulls away from the hug and rests both his hands on my hips. I put one hand on the side of his ribs and the other lazily slung on his shoulder. It's true. We just ran from his house all the way here, napped, and just now got up to go to my dining room to make plans of him staying here. Frank just wanted a better place to talk to me about it instead of in my bedroom I guess.

"Oh. You haven't either," 

"Let's get you some food. See, you have healthy food now!" he motions with his hand at the apples sitting in a bowl in the center of my small table. I never even use that table. Whenever I eat, I bring the food back to my bedroom. I only bought it for looks. 

"You're right," I confess. 

"Come on. Lets make you something to eat. It's nearly lunch time by now," he plants a loving kiss on my jaw and we go to my minifridge to look at what we can get. We end making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with an apple for each of us. Frank notices when I leave 3/4 of the sandwich on my plate and only eat the apple.

"What's wrong?" he puts his apple on the table and looks at me with concern in his eyes.

I shrug.

"Not very hungry?" he frowns slightly. 

I shrug again.

I don't want to tell him about my problems with eating. Sometimes I'll be able to scarf food like a pig, and other days I won't consume anything but coffee. 

"Gee," he starts. I focus on the light brown fluffy bread. We bought the cheap kind that is so soft, you can hardly pick it up without it squishing flat.

"Just one bite? Please?" 

I've heard that so many times from too many people. Teachers, family, former friends, they always ask for just one bite. It doesn't convince me enough to eat.

Frank sighs softly and goes quiet to think. 

"How about this. For every bite, you get a reward," 

"A reward? What do you mean?"

"For every bite you take is one kiss you get from me,"

What a stupid deal! I can't refuse the offer.