Random Frerard Fluff [ONE SHOTS] [COMPLETED]

It's Much More Sexy to Dance on a Pole, Rather than to Walk into One

So this was inspired by a post I saw on Tumblr

Enjoy? hm we'll see

AU FIC

—-

I don't know if you've ever walked headlong into something solid, but if you have, I'm sure it fucking hurt.

I'm sure your arms flailed around in confusion, shock and pain, and you probably exclaimed with some form of a curse or another, hopping on the spot as if it were the obvious cure for a bonked head.

Hell, maybe it even happened in public.

A jungle where there's no scrub or brush or trees to hide; people of the unblinking public eye see everything, and it seems nothing out of the ordinary is ever missed completely.

Someone was more than likely laughing at you, even if it were not outwardly, and that simple gesture alone is enough to make even the smartest feel foolish.

—-

So there I am, complete with a fresh swelling donning my forehead, surrounded by bustling people who are either judging me or aren't - see, there's no in between. Some pedestrians, mostly consisting of teenagers and small children, are laughing and pointing: not bothering to care for such reckless and quite frankly rude behaviour.

I stumble backwards and clutch my throbbing head as I struggle to comprehend the situation, squishing my eyelids over my eyes in attempt to ease the pain, but after a few moments I open them again, just in case. I look to my left; out onto the busy road, holstering an infinite pallet of colourful, speeding cars, flying over the bitumen as if the friction between the tyres and the road doesn't exist; and I make a mental note not to come too close to the edge of the sidewalk with vision as blurry as mine.

The delicious smell of a bakery's pastries is enticing me on the right, and behind me I can hear some shaky laughter, much louder than all the rest, emitting from what I think is just a tactless teenager. I feel a sudden bout of anger bubbling up inside me, threatening to burst, which causes my eyes to water with the combined burn of the raw emotion gurgling in my larynx and the sharp, rhythmic stabs between my temples.

My body swings around so fiercely that all the pain stops entirely for a second, but in the next it's back: worse than ever before. I ignore it, choosing instead to yell shamelessly at the stranger before me, exploding with all of my pent up anger from the day.

"Can you not?" I say, much more calmly than even I expected, startling the raven haired stranger - a man, I now realise, not a teenager. But no matter, I continue to fume, if not more now: surely a grown adult should have more manners?

The man looks as if he is momentarily shocked beyond belief, but it's only temporary - unfortunately for me - because now he's laughing again. It's high-pitched and giggly, but all cuteness is eradicated and overrun by the over-confidence and arrogance that the laugh seems to radiate. He tilts his head back towards the grey sky, still laughing, and continues to walk on.

I'm stunned, but it doesn't last for long, not long at all, because now it's my turn to laugh.

"You fucking idiot!" I manage to force out, all pain and angst long forgotten. The man's sunglasses have now toppled to the concrete and smashed underneath his accidental foot, because this time around, he's the one hopping and howling in pain.

—-

"What did you say your name was again, huh?" he asks, raising an eyebrow as I sip my coffee nervously.

"I didn't," I find myself replying sheepishly (playing along, although I am aware of his extremely cliché pick up line), hiding my mouth behind the rim of my mug and muffling my words. I didn't set out to socialise today, as usual, so God knows why I agreed to coffee with a stranger. Of course, he's not just any stranger, but the very same stranger who, in fact, laughed so hard at my misfortune that he ended up walking into the very same pole.

He seems like an asshole, although he's still kind of cute; especially his smooth pale skin, spiked with a cute button nose in the centre of his roundish face.

"Oh, my mistake. I'm Gerard," he says, extending his hand outward for a handshake. The sudden movement makes me panic, and the coffee cup in my hand tremors dangerously, spilling the boiling hot liquid all over my chest and crotch.

"Fuck!"

Pain shoots through my nerve receptors as I hurriedly reach for a surviette, but in the process, I manage to bump fingers with a fumbling Gerard. I screech in alarm, flailing around and trying desperately not to focus on the twenty or so eyes flittering in my direction. I fly up from my seat in the booth, bolting to the mens' bathroom and rushing to the sinks as soon as I enter. The water is cool under my clothes, and it helps to cease the burning sensation on my skin.

I begin to take a few slow breaths in, calming myself down, when I hear the click of the door handle. A few seconds later, a figure is stood behind me in the bathroom mirror's reflection, and I'm unhappy to realise that it's the Gerard-guy again.

"Hey, are you okay?"

His voice is laced with concern, and he moves to place a hand on my shoulder, but I shrink backward in what I hope he takes as a negative answer.

"Oh, uh- sorry." He smiles a little, pulling his left shoulder into a half-shrug.

"Well at least you're not laughing at me now," I mumble, before I remember to introduce myself. "I'm Frank and yeah, I'm shy, that's all."

"Well it's very nice to meet you, Frank. I would shake your hand, but I take it you don't like to be touched?"

"It's not that- er well, I mean, it kind of is, I guess. It's more superstition than anything, really..." Whilst I'm explaining, I realise with a prickle of embarrassment that my hands are waving around compulsively as I speak. I let them drop back to my sides, trailing off my sentence as I do so.

"Superstition?"

"Well, I'm really unlucky, see, and touching somebody else usually has a terrible effect on not only myself, but um, the other person too. Not to mention, the thought of touching others often makes me anxious, for that reason."

"Oh. Doesn't it get awfully lonely, though?"

"Yeah, but I don't think about it too often. My dogs love me no matter how unlucky I am."

Gerard hums awkwardly, biting his lip as though he's thinking really hard, or making a difficult decision. For a few moments his eyes are unfocused, but then he's looking at me again, his features pulled into a defiant and determined expression.

"I shouldn't have laughed at you before. Although, I have to admit, it was pretty hilarious, you running into that pole. It was right in-fucking-front of you and you didn't even notice!"

"Shut up, hypocrite," I say, feeling a blush rise high on my neck. "It was funnier after you did it, I think. The irony was the stupidest part." I laugh a little, closing my tattooed hand over my face, self conscious of my stupid giggle. Gerard stares at me, before he reaches out and grasps my forearm in his hand, regardless of my flinch.

"You know what? I think I'm going to take my chances on that supposed bad luck of yours. I'm buying you another coffee."

A/N

sorry this is kinda bad but

a). i thought it was kinda cute

b). i rushed the ending bc i started working on another one-shot that was going better than this one and I want to work on that now

-Olz