Living On My Own

“Two months, two whole fucking months of following my lazy-ass boss around. Why the fucking hell did I take this job? It’s not worth the god-awful hours and la-di-da business trips.” Gerard grumbled while he took a sip from his travel mug which he reserved for coffee, struggling to keep his eyes open.

You see, Gerard’s been working for some big fancy-shmancy company that he’s not even sure what they produce, or if they offer some kind of service, but all he knows is that he is the boss’s assistant. Mr.Reginald, or something along those lines. You could just go with Gerard’s more suited name of Dickhead. Either one works. He doesn't know what the guy’s name is, or cares all that much either, he just has to cater to every single one of his fucking needs. No biggie.

Gerard was fuming as he pulled up to the drive of his house. His house. If anything good came out of this job, it was the pay, which meant he was able to afford a house of his own. He breathed a slight sigh of relief as he heard the click of the lock opening up the door. “Sleep.” He murmured with half lidded eyes. Apparently the coffee hasn't done it’s job.

He trudged up the stairs, right hand sliding lazily up the banister while his shoes shuffled against the carpet. He was pretty sure the second his head hit his pillow, he’ll be knocked out for a while, and he couldn't be more fucking thrilled.

To say that Gerard was just a little bit disoriented would be a drastic understatement, and you’d be stupid to defend him in that. He didn't realise that his bedroom door was already open. He didn't realise that he didn't take his shoes off when he climbed into the bed in question, and he certainly didn't realise the figure of a body snoring quietly under the duvet.

As he pulled the duvet up to his chest, he instinctively turned to the other person and snaked his arms around their small body and started to make himself comfy, while making sure the they had just enough duvet on their side. Gerard is a duvet whore, or so he’s been told.
“Wait,” Ah, yes! Gerard’s finally came to the conclusion that he lives by himself!

“Who the fuck am I cuddling into?!” Gerard’s eyes shot open. Is he imagining this? Is this all an illusion? An elaborate hoax? Is he really this tired that his brain is creating people peacefully asleep in his bed?

“Who the actual fuck are you?” Gerard shouted at the lump of duvet. The Lump stirred, bringing a hand up to rub the sleep from their eyes. “Wha-” The Lump yawned, stretched, and pulled the duvet up off their face.

“Holy shit, it’s a guy!” Gerard meant to say this is his head. Gerard failed horribly. Today just hasn’t been his day, has it?

When The Lump opened his eyes to see Gerard staring at him like he was the second coming of Christ, he came to the conclusion of just who it was. “Shit,” The Lump whispered while biting his lip, “You’re the guy in all those photographs!"

Notes

This is also posted on Archive Of Our Own, under the account RadLoser. Same as here. I am the same person. Hello.

More chapters have already been posted on my Archive, as it is the primary source for the fic, but I thought I should post it here as backup. But my Archive will always be updated first.

Thank you for reading!

RadLoser

(Also, here is my tumblr if you wish to contact me: rad-loser.tumblr.com