coffee dates and other things || frerard oneshots

switchblade attitude, bubblegum smile

warning for content that may be sensitive for readers: injuries, abuse

i'm watching the Outsiders while i write this fjksfhs

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It's not exactly everyday that Frank sees a fellow greaser slumped over in a bloody pile- but it does happen more than he's happy to admit.

Dropping his cigarette, Frank ran into the alley and dropped down next to the figure, ignoring the way the rocks bit into his knees in favour of assessing the person on the ground. The persons shoulders shook faintly, a soft whimper following as Frank gently gripped their upper arm, leather soft beneath his palm, and rolled them over gingerly.

The figure, a boy, groaned at the movement, blood crusted around his nose and running across the side of his face and lips. There were dried trails of brown-red down his chin and throat too, as though he'd been standing, or sitting, when his nose had originally started gushing. Beneath the bruises and the blood and the dirt from the ground, Frank knew who it was. And his stomach dropped.

"Gerard? Fuck- Baby, what happened?" He carefully attempted to sit his boy up, wary of any injuries hidden beneath his clothes, and brushed the hair from his face, cupping his jaw gently. Gerard wasn't even tough, he just liked to wear Franks jackets sometimes and sure, he had an affinity for switchblades, but he mostly just stayed inside and read books or went with Frank to the mechanics and passed him tools while chewing his gum and trying to see how big he could blow the bubbles. He didn't deserve this at all.

"Gee? Honey?" He tried again, only getting a weak sob in response. Muttering a quiet curse he made sure Gerard wouldn't fall over where he was now sitting against the wall, and ran around the corner to the house, the old wooden patio thudding loudly under his feet as he raced for the door.

"Ray!? Billie!?" He shouted, the screen door slamming against the wall as he threw it open and startled his two friends who were in the middle of a card game on the coffee table. They shot him wide eyed looks and were already reaching for their jackets and knives (or baseball bat in Billies' case) before he'd even said anything. 

"It's Gerard. I need someone t'help carry him in." He said desperately, turning back around and retracing his steps until he was kneeling next to his boy again, knowing the other two guys were following. Gerard was a little more lucid now, and he seemed to be trying to hold in his tears, hazel eyes watery as Frank dropped down beside him.

"It really hurts Frankie." He whimpered, hugging his torso and biting back a yelp of pain when Billy carefully lifted Gerard by his armpits and Ray grabbed his legs.

Frank felt utterly useless as he ran ahead and held the door open for them, watching nervously as Gerard was carried in and then set down on the ratty couch. His stomach twisted at the torn fabric and broken springs. 

"No- put him in our room."

The two other boys nodded and carefully picked him back up, disappearing down the hall as Frank grabbed the well-loved first aid kit from next to the sink, a bowl of water and a damp cloth.

When he got to the bedroom he shrugged off his work jacket and draped it over the bed frame, shooting Billy and Ray an appreciative look as they backed away and left. He knew there'd be questions but everyone knew you didn't start raising voices until the wounded were patched up.

He sat down next to Gerard, the mattress dipping under his weight, and brushed the dark strands of his hair out of his face. His eyes were open and watching his movement, a tear escaping and rolling down his temple before disappearing into his hair. Frank made a soothing noise and kissed his forehead, taking the cloth and gently dabbing at the blood on Gerard's face.