Random Frerard Fluff [ONE SHOTS] [COMPLETED]

Famous First Words

warning: this is an awkward, unedited, half-assed half crack fic + half attempt at a decent one-shot, read at your own risk

ERA FIC

"Bob," Frank said after a show one night, curling the name around a cloud of marijuana-induced smoke as he did so. "I bet you were a cute baby. Were you a cute baby?" Frank released a high pot-giggle, rocking back into cushions of the worn couch, when Bob only grunted in return - exhaling with his own smoke - and shot a stern look toward the shiny, cement floor.

"Of course he was," interjected Gerard, striding into the backstage lounge. He sipped from the water bottle in his grip inconspicuously, because the clear fluid was most definitely not alcohol of any form - Gerard was sober - and he plopped down, sinking into the couch, next to Frank. "Whoever heard of a non-cute baby?"

"That's true," Ray added to the conversation from where he sat on a broken amplifier, "but if there's non-cute adults, then there has to be some kind of non-cute baby, too. There has to be a balance, right?"

"Guys, are we really discussing this right now?" Mikey asked honestly, not quite surprised but more or less concerned for his friends' well-being.

"So Robert-o." Frank ignored Mikey completely. His low attention span was somehow still focused on the burly, blonde drummer, and where he was sat on the ugly, brown checkered couch opposite him - for the time being, anyway. "You got any baby pictures?"

Bob pulled a face and Ray burst out laughing, slapping the side of the hollow amp. Mikey shrugged at Gerard (who shrugged back, as a brother does), exasperated, and proceeded to immerse himself in the world of text messaging.

"No Frank, I do not have any baby pictures of myself at this very moment. If you want, though, you could go visit Momma Bryar in Chicago and ask her." Frank giggled again, and whether or not he was seeing things, he'd never know, but Gerard could have sworn he saw the corners of Bob's mouth turn up in a little grin.

Bob, grinning! Maybe it's all the pot in the air, Gerard concluded quietly to himself, shaking his shiny, black-haired head.

"What was that, Gerard-y?" Frank squealed, mashing his face into the side of Gerard's Black Parade jacket. He didn't - although it seemed as if he couldn't - stop giggling now, and his ceaseless laughing sent weird tingles up and down Gerard's spine.

"Dude, how much weed has he smoked? The guy's fuckin' hammered alright," Ray sounded from the amp, running a hand through his frizzy mop of hair in amusement.

"Not much," came Frank's muffled reply. "Ew, Gerard, you stink. You're all sweaty. Use some air freshener for fuck's sake."

"Air freshener?" Gerard laughed. "You mean deodorant, Frank?"

"Yeah, that's the one," said Frank, his face emerging from Gerard's side; smiling and flushed. He leaned up and pressed a messy peck to Gerard's cheek, before picking up Gerard's arm and wrapping it around himself.

"What the fuck, Frank, that's my brother," Mikey monotoned, without needing to even look up from the LED screen in front of his bespectacled eyes.

"You have a hot brother though, it's not my fault." Frank stuck his tongue out childishly at Mikey - who gave him the finger effortlessly in return. Gerard's younger brother had a kind of skill in the blank expression department, and he used it right then and there: somehow translating his attitude with a single blank look, in that Mikey Way kind of way.

"Oh, so you think I'm hot, Frank?"

"Yeah, along with a million other teenage girls. Don't get too cocky, Way," Frank said seriously, lighting another weed-packed spliff as he eyed Gerard with suspicion. Then, his whole face lit up with a sly beam, and he popped out with, "Hey, were you a cute baby, Gerard?"

Bob snorted somewhere in the background, and Ray finished telling the drummer his dirty joke with a smile and a sense of completion. Mikey remained unresponsive, tapping his bony fingers on the buttons of his phone keypad every now and again.

"Yes, I was an extremely adorable child," Gerard answered, moving his hand to Frank's knee without the shorter man noticing.

"But you have to prove it." Frank smiled, his stoned hazel eyes slightly squinting against the bright lights in the room.

"How? I have no photos with me." Frank bit his lip, evidently thinking hard. Gerard stroked Frank's knee a little, through the denim of his blue 'backstage jeans'.

"Well, what were your first words then?" Frank enquired innocently. Gerard thought about it, trying to remember if his mother had ever told him what his first proper words were. Then, Mikey jumped in with an overly-exaggerated high pitch in his voice, once again still staring at his phone with the most blank look ever,

"Mr Way no gay!"

At that comment, as if Ray and Bob had actually been listening to the conversation, the room erupted into quadrupled laughter, bar Gerard of course. His cheeks had tinted red to begin with, but soon after he joined in with the others.

Eventually, Ray and Bob left to down a few beers at the nearest pub, and Mikey mysteriously disappeared for no apparent reason. Gerard stayed at the venue with a very high Frank, enjoying the meaningless and light conversation.

"Were those really your first words, Gerard?" Frank asked some time later, a laugh in his question.

"I don't think so, Frank," Gerard replied, sliding his arm from around Frank's shoulders to his waist.

"Aw shit, that would have been so cool though!" Gerard had to admit, although he knew Frank was only joking around with his childish behaviour, it was quite a cute sight to see. "Hey, I just had a great idea for our next album!" Frank said suddenly, surprising his best friend.

Gerard, knowing that Frank had some of his best ideas when stoned, gestured for him to continue, just as excited as Frank. "We could do like a- a concept, or something- like- and then we got turned back into babies and-" Frank hiccupped, "-we could have a song called Famous First Words! Get it?"

Gerard sat, dumbfounded, for a moment, just staring at Frank's eager face. He didn't have the heart to tell Frank that his idea was complete weed-fuelled rubbish, so instead, he replied,

"Of course I get it. I think it's a great idea." He smiled encouragingly, patting Frank on the head.

"No, it's a shit idea, what are you thinking?" Frank beamed toothily, like he knew something Gerard didn't. "I was joking, you're so fucking stupid."

"Oh, I see how it is."

"I love you Gerard." Gerard's heart leapt, because Frank was Frank, and Frank was high for that matter, but he still wondered if Frank meant it the way he wanted Frank to mean it.

"Love you too," was all Gerard could say, giving Frank a friendly squeeze.

"No!" Frank dragged out. He straightened up against the couch, his face inches away from Gerard's. "Not that love," Frank said, as if it were obvious. "This love." He pointed to his lips, then to Gerard's, and then, as if that wasn't enough of an explanation, he kissed Gerard.

It was clumsy and awkward, but it was nothing like the kisses they'd stolen onstage. This kiss was private, a secret for only them to share. There was no audience cheering them on, there was no alcohol or tour-induced, sexually frustrated lust flowing through Gerard's veins, and although the high hadn't quite left Frank yet, Gerard knew that it was an honest kiss.

A/N
guys I love Lindsey and Jamia a lot ok, but in this fic and the first one I ever did, neither of them are married to Gerard and Frank for shipping purposes (you know what I mean)

this was very rushed apologies
youre welcome for all the updates I've been giving you guys

-olz

ps please comment, I love reading them