25 Reasons Why I Hate You

Gerard arrived at Frank’s house at eight sharp, not even hiding his fear of Frank’s parents’ reaction when they see him. They were pretty nice the last time they’d had dinner together, yeah, but Frank really wasn’t. So, like, won’t this be painfully weird for them? Frank gave out a vibe like he hates Gerard’s guts the last time, and now he is the one who invited him over in the first place and probably will act like he usually does, because that’s just how Frank rolls. Worst enemies to kind-of-friends in a matter of two months? Clichéd to the bone, but Gerard certainly isn’t complaining. Who the hell would?

When Frank opened the door, Gerard was already freezing because the only thing he put on over his thin band tee was an old hoodie, since he’s an idiot who practically wants to get sick. Frank looked really amused when Gerard entered the house and gawked around to see if there’s anyone around who would jump out of a pit of hell from somewhere and drag him down with them to free him of this misery.

“Mom’s out grocery shopping, dad’s still at work. We’re alone until like, seven forty-five,” Frank said, sighing.

And then Gerard realized Frank wasn’t wearing a t-shirt and everything he was thinking about along with what he was about to say was silenced by the sudden eager communication between his brain and his dick. Great.

And that leaves us here, Frank sitting on the counter in the kitchen and Gerard leaning against the opposite one, the former still not wearing a shirt. It’s an understatement to notice that’s really distracting Gerard from everything he’s thinking or talking about and fucking crap when if starts talking while simultaneously daydreaming about the other part of Frank being naked and on top of him, he could say a lot of shit he usually wouldn’t if he had control over his fucking mouth. Geez, his mouth… now he’s thinking about things he could do to Frank with his mouth and fuck, when did this pose become so uncomfortable?

“Stop fucking fidgeting,” Frank tells him.

“Sorry,” he bites his lip awkwardly and picks over his mind to find a topic that could prevent him from popping a boner. “Why didn't you invite Lindsey tonight, though?” he says, breaking the short silence, chewing on his bottom lip and trying to decode the facial expression Frank is currently giving him. “I mean, you didn’t seem really fond of me-”

Frank sighs, annoyed. “Why’d you have to mention that? Do you, like, want to ruin this truce thing we’ve got going on? Seriously?”

Gerard rolls his eyes. “Well, obviously not. But I’m curious.” Yeah, he’s also curious of some other things involving the currently un-exposed part of Frank’s body and good God since when is he such a fucking pervert?

“No… it’s that you’re…” Frank rubs his eyes with the backs of his palms, explaining something furiously and looking really cute and Gerard isn’t sure if he’d fuck him or cuddle him right now. But he’s sure Frank wouldn’t let him do either, at least not at the moment, because he still slightly hates him and currently looks completely pissed at him. It’s as if Gerard has some sort of gift to make Frank angry at him and hate his guts. And now he’s staring at Frank’s chest again and thinking about angry sex and shit, just as Frank in his daydreams was about to scream his name out, the real Frank starts calling it and using all sorts of really, really gay hand gestures and Gerard knows he’s fucked.

“Huh?”

Frank glares at him. “Were you even listening to me?”

“No, uh, sorry,” Gerard shakes his head, “you better put on a shirt.”

Frank stands still for a moment, confused. “Wait. What?”

“Nothing,” Gerard says, a bit too fast.

“Okay, whatever, but the point stands: even though I’m fucking mad at you, it’s not like I don’t like hanging out with you. I do, I just have to live with the urge to kick you in the face when I do.” Frank sighs exasperatedly and Gerard bites his lip.

“So, I’m mildly entertaining to be around?”

Frank snickers. “Psht, no,” he grins and Gerard finds himself moving towards Frank. He’s wearing some sort of smirk on his face which is fading with every step Gerard takes.

“You should really put on a shirt,” he says lowly, his face an inch away from Frank’s. He puts one of his hands on his shoulder, the other on his knee and Frank now seems to realize what Gerard has been getting at; and he allows himself to smile, or something that could count as a smile. After all, he had Gerard Way in front of his face. And that could mean only two things – either it was because he just killed him or because they were about to make out.

“Just fucking kiss me already,” Frank mumbles and Gerard rolls his eyes but starts leaning in, slowly.

And just before their lips connect, the doorknob clicks and Gerard jumps three feet away from Frank. Linda appears in the doorway, wearing a knowing smirk as she’s walking between them, cheerfully kissing her son’s cheek, who just forces a smile but actually looks like he’s constipated, and ruffling Gerard’s hair like he’s her favorite amongst all Frank’s friends, even though Gerard completely forgot about manners and forgot to say hello because he’s been too busy gawking at her, dumbfounded. Not that it’s true, she adores Lindsey, too, those two used to go to shopping together until Frank got sulky because his mom was stealing his best friend; talk about drama queens. That’s all Lindsey’s story, though, so it’s not like Gerard can trust in it completely anyway. But he has to admit it really does sound like Frank.

Back to the point – well, even though he does think really highly of Linda… goshdarn it, she just cockblocked him severely. He will probably never get a shot like this, I mean, Frank literally asked him to kiss him. Shirtless. While sitting on a kitchen counter.

But that’s not important anymore because the moment is gone and Frank is already dragging him towards the living room to watch some anime or something while they’re waiting for dinner. None of them mentions the thing that happens in the kitchen and at some point Frank runs upstairs to ‘go to the bathroom’, but Gerard knows he’s actually just putting on a shirt so Gerard would stop fucking staring.

*

So, the dinner, after all, isn’t that awkward. Frank’s dad asks him about school, about his dad and ‘if he’s heard about that college in Newark’, while his mom is just really nice and starts random conversation about nothing in particular. Frank’s being pretty okay; too, great even – considering the way Frank’s able to act when something isn’t the way he wants it to be. Long story short, Frank’s a real bitch usually – but Gerard kind of loves that about him because he’s sometimes just as much of a diva as him.

“Uh, Frank? Are you dating someone by any chance?” Linda chirps at some point in the conversation and Frank looks at her with a cocked eyebrow. “Tall, black haired, likes to kiss you in our kitchen? Does that ring a bell?” Linda asks with a smirk, and Frank nearly chokes on the piece of pasta he’s been chewing. Gerard just stares again, which is obviously the only thing he can ever do when he gets caught off guard and that’s just another thing he makes a mental note to add to his ‘Things about Gerard that annoy Gerard’ list.

“We’re-” Gerard stutters, “we’re not dating.”

Linda looks feignedly disappointed, and Frank Senior looks like he’s pretending that he has no clue about anything. “That’s a shame,” she says softly, narrowing her eyes knowingly at Gerard, “you’d make such a nice couple.”

Gerard looks at Frank and Frank looks at Gerard, both blushing like tomatoes. Gerard wonders at what point exactly this dinner went from ‘mildly enjoyable’ to ‘awkwardly embarrassing’ and decides to drop it before his head makes the situation even worse – if that’s even possible. So he just chews on his food and tries not to bump his foot into anyone else’s underneath the table or accidentally throw up all over his plate.

*

“Frank, would you mind cleaning up?” Linda smiles sweetly and Frank nods, eyeing Gerard carefully as he’s walking towards the kitchen. He opens the door and stands there, still looking at him.

“What?” Gerard shrieks.

“Are you coming or not, asshole?” Frank sighs, then pales in the face. “No pun intended.”

Gerard laughs out loud, that idiotic laughter in which you don’t know what’s bass and what’s treble or if it’s maybe both, but Frank catches himself smiling at how cute his face looks all red and scrunched up. “Yeah, I’m coming.” He adds a wink and a smirk and Frank rolls his eyes, but blushes anyway.

*

“Hell, man, my nail polish is all peeled. I hate doing the dishes,” Gerard whines and Frank just throws the kitchen rag at him.

“Stop being such a diva.”

“If you have it in your hips, you have it on your lips,” Gerard says and wiggles his hips in a way that could scar little children [but in a good way]. Frank starts laughing like a maniac and remains like that all the time until it’s time to show Gerard out. It’s probably batshit cold outside but Gerard doesn’t mind, he always has love towards his homeland to warm him or some bullshit.

“So…” Frank starts, standing in the doorway and fiddling with his foot awkwardly.

“That was, uh… fun,” Gerard bites his lip and then they both laugh awkwardly because they know it was definitely not fun.

“Yeah,” Frank says, and Gerard is about to say something but he’s interrupted when Frank’s foot gets stuck in the bottom of the coat rack and he stumbles directly on top of Gerard, both of them falling down like sacks of potatoes.

Now, usually, this would be the perfect romantic comedy moment for them to kiss, because Frank’s staring into Gerard’s eyes and it’s all idiotically perfect but of course Gerard blurts out, “Shit, I think something might be boning me in the ass,” in the worst moment possible and ruins it completely.

“As long as it’s not a dick, you’ll be fine,” Frank sighs and helps Gerard up.

“See you tomorrow?” Gerard says hopefully before opening the door.

“I’ll text you. I can ask Linds and V if they want to go out for coffee, if you want,” Frank bites his lip. Gerard furrows his brow a little, looking down instinctively, because he knows that was only so that they don’t have to spend time alone, but he doesn’t mention it. He nods and disappears through the door, waving at Frank shortly before sticking his hands in his pockets.

It’s fucking cold outside but he gets home soon, hoping he won’t get too much shit from Mikey for hanging out with Frank so much. Darn, he is his little brother and his part time life advisor, but he sure as hell can be annoying when it comes to Frank. Partially because he’s constantly bitching about how someone who actually deserved him ‘wouldn’t fucking hesitate so much’ and that’s fucking braindraining but Gerard knows it’s just because he cares about him and wants all the best for him and blah blah blah. Maybe one day Frank will actually stop hesitating and Mikey will throw a party and start hugging him constantly and maybe even turn him into his sophomore-year-of-high-school-first-pot-buddy. Who knows, he’s a weird kid and knowing Frank, he’d probably be totally into that shit.

So, instead of being given his daily dose of the Wisdom Of Mikeyway, he decides to call Lindsey and rant to her because, honestly, she’s the one who’s the best at describing Frank’s undying love for Gerard and making it sound give-or-take believable. And that totally wasn’t sarcasm.

Notes

This fic can be summarized by this message from Rogue to myself;

Sigh.

Stomachaches is officially the album of the century. I don't even give a shit.

Sigh, sorry about the crappiness. I tried, but inspiration hasn't really been generous tonight. Oh, well. Action Cat is currently playing, so would you please excuse me to go shout the lyrics into my pillow and hope my mom won't hear me [3:33am, fml] ? Thanks.

- Milo