Went to dad's closet
I picked up his .45
Grabbed 3 boxes of bullets
And on my hip they shall reside..
Until I opened the gym doors
You should have seen those fucks run
Gerard sighed. Today was most definitely a LeATHERMOUTH kind of day. He ran a hand through his hair and looked out of the rain streaked window he was sat by.
The idea of running to his car was really not a tempting one. As much as loved Jersey, the weather was shit. That, on top of the fact he had a deadline due in a week, and he was still no where near complete, and Mikey was complaining about him skipping out on dinner with him and Ray again...yes, today was definitely a LeATHERMOUTH day.
He returned his sight to the sketches in front of him, screwing up his eyes as he tried to remember what the Hell he was even trying to draw, when his table shook as someone bumped into it.
"Shit! Sorry!" Gerard heard as he pulled his headphones off.
"S'cool man," he muttered, pulling away the sheets of paper with drops of coffee on the corners.
"Aw shit, did I ruin anything?"
Gerard looked up at the man, squinting slightly. He looked familiar for some reason.
"It's cool, nothing important," Gerard sighed, screwing up the useless sketches into a paper ball.
Gerard noticed the guy's eyes resting on the screen of his iPod, still alight from Gerard pausing it.
"Nice choice," the guy smirked, nodding at Gerard's iPod.
Gerard sighed. "It's a LeATHERMOUTH day," he nodded.
The man laughed. "It's always a LeATHERMOUTH day for me," he said, before apologising once more, and walked off to the counter, where another man was stood, watching him curiously.
It wasn't until Gerard actually looked at both men that it struck him.
That was James Dewees that had just bumped his table.
James. Fucking. Dewees.
The fucking drummer for LeATHERMOUTH.
Oh dear Lord, Gerard thought, mentally face palming. He really was not with it today, was he?
So that meant...fuck. It was, wasn't it?
Gerard felt his eyes widen comically as he stared at Frank Iero, leaning casually against the service counter, arms folded, a back hoody covering those tattooed arms that Gerard had had more than one rather dirty dream about.
As if he knew he was being watched, Frank turned to look at him, and shot him a small smile.
Gerard immediately felt his face redden, and returned to the scribbles and outlines on the papers in front of him.
He spent a few minutes going over the same outline over and over again, when he looked up to see Dewees and Frank about to pass his table.
"Later, man," Dewees smiled, holding up a hand.
Gerard gave a small nod, a shy smile on his face. He caught Frank's line of sight, and instantly felt himself blush as the small front man smiled at him.
-
The next day, Gerard was sat at his usual table by the window, his iPad tablet on the table in front of him. He was scrolling through an email from Becky when he felt his table bump slightly.
