Random Frerard Fluff [ONE SHOTS] [COMPLETED]

My Fingernails are Black Like My Soul

ERA FIC

"Gerard, dude! Shit!"

Now, if Gerard hadn't have jolted his hand out so suddenly towards Frank's face, then maybe, just maybe, Frank wouldn't have jerked back in so much surprise.

Maybe, Frank wouldn't have fallen backwards out of Gerard's bunk, landing on the tour bus floor with a shudder worthy clatter, and maybe, he wouldn't have spilt far too much black nail polish all over himself.

Along with Gerard's white bed sheets.

This was something that Frank's obsessive personality couldn't possibly handle.

"Oops, sorry Frankie," Gerard giggled.

A contemplative look crossed his features as he, Frank guessed, mentally tied up the loose ends of his previous ramblings (something to do with Ray's hair) which was maybe, just maybe, far too much cuteness; far too much cuteness for Frank to possibly stay pissed off.

This exact cuteness caused the corners of Frank's mouth to quirk up into a slight smile, a smile that lasted for a millisecond at most.

"'S'okay I s'pose," Frank said simply, glancing up to see Gerard biting his  bottom lip distractedly. "But I am kind of annoyed about this." Frank gestured towards himself- clad in a t-shirt and skinnies so black that the nail polish was practically invisible on his clothes- and Gerard's mattress. "Actually, scratch that, I am annoyed to all fuck."

"I know! I said sorry, didn't I?"

Gerard sighed loudly and over-dramatically, placing his chin between his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully. "Oh, what could I do to make amends?" he drawled, slowly smirking down at the short guitarist and showcasing his pretty little teeth, which were framed by his perfectly proportioned, pink lips.

'Oh that mouth of his,' Frank thought, as the image of a naked Gerard, complete with his short white-blonde hair, swam before his eyes.

"Maybe you could help clean up, asshole?" suggested Frank, bending forward as he, without much consideration for anything apart from Gerard's sudden hyena laugh, began to clean up the puddle of nail polish that would surely stain the linoleum; using a handful of his already-ruined shirt.

Much to Frank's sexual frustration, Gerard puckered his lips and added flirtatiously, "Oh Frankie, you'd make a great maid," curving the corner of his mouth around each word, as if a cigarette belonged in his grasp.

That mouth, Frank found himself thinking once again, as dirty nothings flooded his mind.

That mouth which was admittedly very kissable in Frank's opinion, and that mouth which could be used for so many other sinfully pleasurable actions. 'Am I gay for wanting to fuck your mouth right now?' Frank wanted to scream at him.

'I thought I liked girls, and I still like girls, but then there's you. How, and why?' he wanted so desperately to ask.

But of course, these questions were banished from Frank's mind, instantaneously, by the man himself: Gerard Way.

"Frank, you've been staring at me for the past two minutes and-" Gerard giggled again, "-you've smudged black shit everywhere!"

"Wha- oh, motherfucker!"

And once he'd started it seemed he couldn't stop - Gerard screeched and guffawed at the top of his lungs as tears of laughter rolled down his cheeks, only ceasing to catch his breath once Frank had sent one of his most disapproving glares in Gerard's direction.

"All I wanted was to paint my nails, c'mon! Be fucking glad I wasn't in my parade jacket, I would've been in so much-"

But Frank wasn't able to finish his sentence as he registered, only barely, Gerard's wet lips pressing against his own, moving at a feverish pace.

He pulled back, slightly appalled and slightly offended, but most of all uncomfortable in the awkward position - having to hold Gerard up by his elbows - stopping the older man from slipping out of his bunk.

"Gerard, what the fuck?"

Frank didn't heed a response to his question - well, not in theory anyway, as Gerard suddenly crashed on top of him with an almighty grunt, rolling them over so that each man was sprawled out on their back.

And with Gerard lying there, next to Frank, his cheeks all hot and flushed beneath his enlargened pupils and fanned by his long eyelashes, Frank found himself thinking that Gerard's face was far too close and far too kissable for his obsessive personality to possibly deal with.

"I'm sorry, I just... I don't know what came over me, I'm sorry, Frankie. We're best friends and I probably just messed everything up... Oh, God I'm so embarrassed, but you just looked so cute and the flirting... I don't know... Frank, I-"

"Gerard, shut up," Frank groaned, palming his forehead. "It's okay, we've kissed tons of times before, remember? It's not any different."

But Frank was lying, because it was different, no matter how many times he'd deny it. And maybe that's what made him shuffle closer to Gerard, maybe he was proving a point, because suddenly they were kissing again, and this was much more comfortable much more relaxed, and this time there was tongues involved, clashing together in a furious battle for dominance.

They didn't stop this time, though, which Frank liked; he liked bliss of his own open mouth sealing the hot warmth of Gerard's, and he liked exploring the wet cavern of Gerard's lips with his tongue, pushing forward with every emotion he could muster.

It was now that Frank realised, in a most peculiar sense, that he enjoyed kissing Gerard much more than any sexual experience he'd ever had. It was as if all his raw and unexplained feelings for Gerard were relayed and reciprocated, somehow without words, and Frank loved it.

At some point later, the time unbeknownst to each band member, they broke apart, and nothing needed to be said between them; all was settled in the kiss. It seemed as though Gerard had enjoyed himself just as much as Frank, grinning to himself as he blushed a horrible shade of magenta.

It was then, of course, that Mikey Way decided to return to the bus from his televised interview, planning on a pot of steaming coffee and some quality time to himself - something quite hard to come by on tour - but instead he found himself before the weirdest scene he could ever imagine.

There were Gerard and Frank, so obviously cuddling and blushing, like the teenagers that scared them so much, breathing hard and lying in a large black stain. It was also then, of course, that Mikey Way decided to rethink the very bane of his own existence, as his eyes travelled to the empty bottle of nail polish some feet away, and then to the crumpled, black-stained bedsheets that were receding from Gerard's bunk.

Mikey popped his hip out as if to say, 'Tell me what the fuck is up,' and Frank seemed to finally notice that the bassist of My Chemical Romance actually existed, following Mikey's gaze to the sheets. Frank just shrugged - whilst Gerard had this giddy look on his face- and managed to force out through giggles,

"G-Gerard- he cums like a squid." Then, without much more thought, he and Mikey's older brother proceeded to erupt into a fit of high-pitched laughter.

Mikey announced his evident awkwardness by use of his famous tight lipped frown, cocking an eyebrow to no one in particular and wondering to himself, why the fuck anyone with half a brain would paint their nails in a bed.

~FIN~

A/N

um so that was my first one shot, ever. yeah it was kinda terrible, sorry about that. hopefully I'll get better soon. oh and this was written from like 2 am - 5 am and I was very tired. thanks for reading!

-Olz