Oreos | Frerard [Completed]

25-Monday Pt. 2

Frank's POV

"Honey, I'm home!" Pete announces with a chuckle, walking in the unlocked front door with me following closely behind.

"Hey! Be there in a sec." I hear Mikey call back from a different room. I look around the foyer and into the living room. There's a small table beside me filled with photos. Some of the frames look like they were painted on by a child and I wonder if Gerard or Mikey made them. I'll ask later.

I hear someone walk over to us.

"Hey Pe— Frank," Mikey greets stopping in his tracks, obviously surprised to see me. Pete said he told Mikey I was coming. Pete grins and pulls Mikey into a long hug and kiss. I feel an odd pang of jealousy. When they finally pull away, Pete whispers something in Mikey's ear, causing him to blush and smile.

They finally seem to remember that I'm here, standing not three feet from them. Mikey clears his throat.

"Hey, ah, Frank," he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Hey," I greet.

"Pete, do you still have my," Gerard appears, rushing down the stairs but stops in his tracks when he sees me. "Guitar strap?"

I smile at him and say "hey" but he just runs back up the stairs. After a couple seconds, Mikey clears his throat.

"Do you guys want some soda?" He asks.

"Yeah, sure," Pete answers for both of us and Mikey leaves. "Dude what the fuck was that about?" He asks me once we're out of earshot.

"Uh, I don't know."

"I hope Diet Coke is okay, Frank," Mikey reappears, holding three cans.

"Perfect," I pry my eyes away from the stairs and thank him. He send me a small smile and turns to Pete. "C'mon." They run up the stairs holding hands. At the top, Mikey stops and turns around to me, saying "uh, TV is all yours and feel free to eat anything in our kitchen. It's just to your left, you can't miss it." And with that, I'm left standing in the empty and quiet room alone.

I take a deep breath and look around again, walking over to the couch and sitting down. I put my can down on a napkin on the coffee table. The TV is already on, playing a soccer game. I switch it to whatever channel is next, which happens to be a cooking competition.

About 15 minutes later, I hear loud giggling from upstairs. In my head I cheer Pete on. The jealousy comes back a bit but I quickly push it away.

I guess Gerard had a different reaction to them. He walks down the stairs, sighing and rubbing his temples. He speeds past the living room and goes directly into the kitchen, searching for something in the fridge. He leans down and opens a drawer, taking a can of soda out.

"Uh, can you grab me a soda?" I ask, even though I'm not done with my first one; just to have something to say to him.

He freezes and looks at me for a second. "Sure," he mumbles, pulling his head out of the fridge.

"Thanks." He tosses the cold can to me and sits down on the opposite side of the couch, nodding as if saying "you're welcome".

A few moments pass of silence and me catching glances at him out of the corner of my eye.

He's a lot more talkative over text.

A text tone sounds from his phone and he quickly checks it, reading the text on his screen.

He sighs. "Mikey! I'm literally downstairs, you couldn't ask that in person?" He yells. He gets another text and, after reading it, yells "oh shut up!"

I hear laughing and creaking from upstairs and laugh. "I think he's a little busy," I joke. Gerard looks at me, groaning.

"Ew," he frowns, but starts laughing with me.

"So," he starts, "Mikey tells me we're going to a concert."

"Uh, yeah. I won a radio contest, believe it or not."

"Wow."

"It's pretty cool," we hear Pete say. Gerard looks upset and I soon see why. Pete slips on a shirt from the bottom of the stairs. His hair is ruffled up and he has a stupid grin on.

Pete's POV

Frank and Gerard sit next to each other on the couch. Gerard must have been smiling just a moment ago, but now looks like he kind of wants to punch me. Being two years my elder, I wouldn't rule it out.

"Uh, I was just getting some water," I explain, leaving them and walking to the kitchen.

"You good?" I hear Frank laugh. Gerard groans.

"He's my little brother," Gerard says, "and he's... Pete. What do you think?"

Rude.

Frank laughs. "Yeah. I completely get that."

Rude.

"Can't control your feelings," Frank says, sighing.

I smile, knowing he knows that firsthand.