Frerard OneShots (finished)

LXVI - Let Me Know

[this is only like 800 words but its short and sweet so have fun reading]

Frank was bad at a lot of things.

He knew that, hell, how could he not? He had enough scars and memories of hospitals and lost bets to prove that, but still, he always found himself agreeing to every challenge. 'Hey, Frank, I bet you can't do this or that skateboard trick'; 'Hey, Frank, I bet you can't get that guy's number while dressed like a hobo'; 'Hey, Frank, I bet you'll flinch if I throw this heavy-ass leather ball right in your face like the coward that you are'.

And, the next time he did something this stupid, was on his best friend's, Mikey's, birthday.

Well, actually, maybe the day before that.

Mikey's birthday was on a Saturday and he had invited some people to sleep over and go play paintball the next day.

And Frank may or may not have ended up making out with Mikey's two-years-older (and very attractive) brother when everyone else was asleep.

But Mikey didn't have to know, did he?

As it turned out the next day, playing paintball wasn't one of Frank's strengths either.

Somehow, he had twisted his ankle and fell, and now his entire foot was red and blue and swollen and he could barely walk. His mother also wasn't home, so after a quick trip to the hospital, he decided to stay with the Ways for the night.

Well, Gerard, who had driven the two and a few other friends there, had decided that for him.

Gerard had gotten a tiny bit overprotective (and not because he had a crush on Frank, no, and not because the two had made out the night before, absolutely not, everything was totally platonic), asking him every two minutes if he was in pain or if he needed anything, and when Frank said that no one was home to take care of him, Gerard promptly said he could spend a night at his.

Obviously, Donna didn't have anything against that; she loved Frank even though she barely knew him but it was as if she had just gotten a third son.

Mikey walked his other friends home, and so Frank and Gerard sat on the couch, alone, watching a horror movie.

Frank was lying on the couch with his feet in Gerard's lap. He was comfortable like that; having no one else around was relaxing, and he didn't seem to mind Gerard's company.

And Gerard- well, Gerard was glad Frank didn't seem to be in pain anymore. He had clearly seen how Frank had tried to hold back the tears from the pain and at that moment, Gerard just wanted to pull him to his chest, hug him tight, kiss the top of his head, and tell him that everything would be alright and that he would take care of Frank. But, obviously, he couldn't do that with everyone around.

So, he was content when Frank seemed calm and comfortable enough to be lying next to him.

Or, well, half on top of him.

"How's your ankle?" Gerard asked, softly, tracing circles into Frank's jeans with his finger.

Frank hummed, then turned to look at him. "It's alright. I'm feelin' a little tired from the pain medication, though."

Gerard leaned over and brushed a strand of hair out of his face. "Do you want to sleep? You could sleep in my bed, I'll take the couch-"

"No, it's fine," he said, sitting up but keeping his feet in Gerard's lap. "It's only half-past nine, anyway."

"If you're tired then you should go to sleep, no matter what time it is," Gerard said, tugging another strand of hair behind his ear; he just wanted to see Frank's pretty eyes as much as possible.

Frank blushed a tiny bit but held the eye contact. Feeling brave, he leaned in and kissed Gerard, softly, for just a second, because he felt he needed it. "Thank you for taking care of me," he said, putting his hand on the side of Gerard's face and looking him in the eye. "But you don't have to do that anymore. I'm fine, I promise."

Gerard leaned into his touch, taking his wrist and holding his hand against his face. "But what if you're not?"

Frank smiled a tiny bit. "I am, really. Don't worry about me."

For a second longer, Gerard looked at him, admiring him. "How are you younger but still so much more mature than me?"

Frank chuckled, biting his lip nervously. "I'm not mature- and you're not immature. You're actually really attractive and you seem so much older than sixteen."

Gerard gave him a pitiful look. "Frankie, that's sweet of you to say, but you don't know me."

Glancing down at his lips, Frank let his gaze linger, sliding his hand to the back of Gerard's neck instead and leaning in. "Then let me." He glanced up for permission, only an inch away from him.

"Let me know you."