Suburbia Is Hot Tonight

Gerard sticks his head into fridge, thinking that the further he goes the more chance he has of finding some slither of food on the empty shelves.

"Fuck," he mutters into the cold air seeing the shelves bare, and drags himself out hitting his elbow on the door as he goes. "Mother fuck!"

He sulks to the lounge, dropping onto the stained cushions and trying to ignore the small crumbs he can feel sticking into his lower back. Fucking Mikey and his food. He digs through the pile of bills, letters, comics and DVDs on the coffee table in search of the remote, resigning himself to a night of shitty sci-fi movies and a rumbling stomach.

Gerard hears a thumping in the corridor slowly get louder until Mikey emerges, hopping on one foot and pulling a boot on the other. He watches from the couch as Mikey lumbers to the front door and knocks his knee into the kitchen table as he goes.

"Fucking table," Mikey mumbles digging through his pockets and scowling, "keys, keys. Gerard! Where the fuck are my keys?"

Gerard looks over the back of the couch and narrows his eyes at Mikey's leather jacket and jean clad form, "where are you going?"

"Out," Mikey says as he tips a bowl of miscellaneous junk all over the kitchen table and scavengers through it for his keys, finding them attached to his Luigi key chain. "Success! See-ya Gerard."

"Wait, wait, wait," Gerard says pulling himself ungracefully over the back of the couch, "what do you mean you're going out? You never told me?"

A guilty look quickly sweeps over Mikey's face as he sees Gerard standing in the middle of the room in an oversized sweater and Star Wars pyjama pants, looking genuinely hurt.

Mikey worries his keys in his hands, "it's not a big thing, just going to a bar with Ray and Pete and some of Pete's friends. I didn't think you'd be interested, because of, y'know."

Gerard just nods, he can't be bothered to tell Mikey he's doesn't have tip-toe around his sobriety. It's not like the temptation isn't there when he goes out, but he's got more self-control than to just get wasted because everyone around him is.

"It's okay Mikey, you better go or you'll be late." Gerard slumps against the back of the lounge as Mikey shoves his phone in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Listen, Gerard," Mikey stops himself, gapes for a moment and tries again ignoring his previous point. "I ordered you pizza, it'll be here in half and hour."

Gerard smiles fondly, eyes crinkling, "thanks Mikey, tell Ray I said hi." Mikey nods and is out the door, leaving Gerard with a small smirk and a wink.

Gerard considers maybe putting on jeans to look a little less like the hobo he is, but figures there's no point when he'll only see the delivery person for a second and then never again. So, instead he resumes his position on the couch and flicks on the television. He surfs through the channels until he sees the beauty of the Enterprise in all her futuristic glory and lets out a noise of appreciation at the prospect of a hardcore Star Trek marathon.

Gerard's half fallen off the couch, completely entranced with Spock's eyebrows when he hears the doorbell ring, and ring, and ring. Gerard scowls, and falls to the floor with a thump before standing. He waddles to the door trying to stretch his arm awkwardly above his head and relieve the pins and needles from lying on it.

He pulls the door open not bothering to check the peep hole, and almost chokes halfway through his yawn, because holy shit, he really should have changed into jeans.
Gerard was expecting a pimple ridden, greasy teenager, gum smacking between their lips as their face showed how much of shit they really didn't give, but this, this was just not okay.

First of all he was smiling, genuinely smiling, and basically bouncing on the balls of his feet, and Gerard’s eyes are practically glued to the whirling of ink on his arms as he spins the pizza and thrusts it to him.

“Hey man! One large pepperoni, with extra pepperoni,” the delivery boy, who Gerard finds out is called ‘Frank’ if the tacky pizza decaled name tag is to be believed, practically sing-songs. “That’ll be fifteen bucks, fair and final.”

Gerard forgets for a second that he actually has to reply, and drags his eyes away from this little shit’s ridiculously attractive face, “fif-fifteen?”

‘Frank’ giggles, and that’s it, Gerard’s so done. “Yes Sir, that would be correct.”

Gerard smiles and coughs, before realising that he has to actually give the fifteen dollars to the guy, "oh uhm just, just wait a second, I'll get the fifteen, fifteen dollars, yeah."

Gerard stumbles over his pyjama pants and almost brains himself on the table as he hurries to find his wallet in amongst the shit lying around the apartment. He scrapes together the cash with a mixture of coins and notes, mentally cursing Mikey that he didn't leave the money somewhere easier to find, and pulls himself from the kitchen floor where he found the last dollar.
He sees Frank the delivery guy standing in the middle of his apartment still smiling and watching Gerard struggle at trying to not blush like a teenager.

Gerard bangs his toe on the corner of the dining table and sucks his lip into his mouth to stifle a scream, because he's sure he just fucking broke it. Frank glances down for a second and Gerard knows the little shit is trying not to laugh.

"Here," Gerard says as he holds the money out to Frank.

Frank opens his mouth to speak but freezes when the sound of Spock's voice fills the apartment. Gerard thinks for second Frank is going to either vomit or collapse and he's not sure which is worse.

"Dude! Star Trek! Fuck yes," Frank says holding his hand up in the Vulcan salute. "Dif tor heh smusma."

Gerard robotically replies with his own salute, "holy shit."

Frank smiles, "mind if I join your marathon, I'll pitch in half for the pizza? Oh, I'm Frank by the way."

Gerard is about to let out a half scream when he stops himself from basically throwing his body against the small man. "How much is Mikey paying you? And where the fuck did he get the money to pay you?"

"I have no idea who or what Mikey is," Frank says still smiling, and fuck, Gerard wants to smack him in the mouth, kinda with his own mouth.

"Oh," Gerard replies eloquently. "I-uh-yeah, sure, I mean if you want too." Gerard scratches the back of his neck and tries to play it cool, but from the little squeal Frank emits he's pretty convinced cool doesn't apply here.

"Oh shit yeah, thanks, uhm," Frank sort of stops and looks at Gerard expectantly, and Gerard is extremely concerned that he's got snot on his face or Frank's noticed a stain on his pants that is probably toothpaste but could be misinterpreted as something else. But then he realises that Frank just has no idea what his name is.

"Gerard Way, Way, Gerard," Gerard blurts, and immediately wants to melt into the floor.

"Nice to meet you Gerard Way, Way, Gerard," Frank says giggling and shakes Gerard's hand. "Now, less talking more pizza and Star Trek." Frank grabs the box and has a piece of pizza halfway down his throat before he's flopped onto the couch.

Gerard positions himself as far away on the couch as he can get and tucks his feet underneath him. They're halfway through an intense phaser battle with Kirk and Spock when it really hits Gerard that holy fucking shit the delivery boy is sitting on his couch.

He spares a sneaky glance, and another and another until he just decides to stare because Frank is way too engrossed with the television to even notice Gerard being a creep.

At first Gerard's mind jumps instantly from 'potential mate' to 'you're a pedophile' when he sees how Frank's skin is far too smooth to be that of an adults. But then Frank is yelling something and his shirt rides up and Gerard almost whines at how unfair life is, before he sees the ink wrapping around Frank's hipbone. Ink he must have been 18 to have received, fuck yes.

Then Gerard realises that, wait, Frank has a job, one that he was doing, and should still be doing, and definitely not sitting on his couch watching Star Trek.

"Shit," Gerard breathes and Frank looks at him like he's finally realised that maybe he shouldn't have stayed in a strangers home and sat on his couch. "You-your job? Working, shouldn't you be like pizza delivering? Like, now?"

Frank laughs and sticks his feet on the coffee table, "you were my last delivery, besides my shift was over anyway, and Bob won't even know I'm gone."
"Bob?"
"My boss, and best friend," Frank grins. "He denies the last part, but he's such a bullshit artist. He loves me."

Gerard smiles awkwardly, he's not sure if Frank was being serious about this 'Bob' , but he feels a little bitter, but not jealous; he's not jealous.

Gerard figures there's not really much left to lose and he's kind of desperate to get his hands on Frank because he's sitting there staring at Gerard and licking his lips.

"So you and Bob, are you like, y'know," Gerard tries to make a 'dating' movement by flapping his hands awkwardly and Frank just snorts and holds his stomach laughing.

"Sorry," Frank says still snickering, "Bob's about as straight as it gets. He fears he'll catch the gay from me."

Gerard's basically screaming, although he's not, because Frank looks like the type of guy that would potentially be totally freaked out by that. But he's definitely feeling a fuck load better about the 'potential mate' idea, because Frank just did the hard work for him and openly admitted to liking dick. Hopefully, Gerard thinks, he'll like his dick.

Frank picks up on Gerard silence and shoots him a glare, "if you're going to preach heteronormativity on me, I'm gonna leave right now." He takes his feet off the coffee table and Gerard is starting to panic because, no, fuck, Frank is definitely going to leave.

"No!" Gerard all but yells at him and launches himself forward moving faster than he has in the past week. He grabs onto Frank bicep a little too desperately and laughs awkwardly, "sorry. But no heteronormativity here, none, I swear."

Frank cocks an eyebrow at him, "you solemnly swear that you are into dick?"

Gerard opens his mouth to repeat what Frank said before the little shit is laughing again and wheezing for air. Frank's basically half shifted into Gerard's lap and is clinging onto him in a half-hug when he catches his breath and just kind of stares at Gerard.

Gerard almost wants to die because he's sure he's got charcoals smeared on his cheek, but he can't even move his hand because it's stuck under Frank's thigh.

"Can I kiss you?" Frank asks looking at Gerard's mouth.

"Sure," Gerard's replying before he even makes the connection between his brain and mouth but then it's too late because, holy fuck, Frank's mouth is on his and Frank is kissing him and it's all kinds of amazing.

Gerard's lucky Frank seems to be knowing what he's doing because he's just practically melting into the couch while Frank straddles him and tugs at his hair and despite how ridiculously easy all of it is turning Gerard on he's still trying to figure out what to do with his goddamn mouth. Frank doesn't really seem to care to much about technique and more about getting his tongue as far down Gerard's throat as possible and it's not like Gerard's going to object so he just grabs onto Frank's waist and let's him take the lead.

The taste of pepperoni has completely been eradicated by Frank's tongue and Gerard's mouth is filled with the flavours of cigarettes and mint. Gerard can't help but moan into Frank's mouth and he feels the rumble run from his chest straight to his dick, but forces himself to think about everything except how Frank is slightly grinding against him, because this is no time for a boner.

Frank pulls away and Gerard thinks that if he didn't have a boner before he's gonna get one now. Frank's lips are swollen and slick with spit and his hair is completely mussed from where Gerard had gripped it momentarily. He smiles at Gerard and leans in, placing a small kiss on his cheek, before sliding out of Gerard's lap and nestling into his side. Gerard's still kind of breathing a little hard and he can feel Frank smiling against his arm.

"Your brother is a genius," Frank says looking up at Gerard.

Gerard instantly screws up his face and he really wants to push Frank away and yell at him for lying but he can't, because he's really cute and Mikey is a genius.

So instead Gerard goes for eloquence, "you mother fucker. You and Mikey planned this shit."
Gerard sees the tint on Frank's cheeks and feels his insides basically turn into mush.

"I pestered Mikey for weeks y'know, and I owe him big time so you better be worth it," Frank says giggling.

"You little shits, I should have known. Mikey has an endless list of friends, it wouldn't surprise me if he knew half the city. Lucky you're a good kisser, and really fucking cute."

Frank grins wide and takes Gerard's hand, "Mikey fuckin' Way."

Gerard laughs and finds himself nodding in agreement, "Mikey fuckin' Way."

Notes

quick little oneshot for the lovely miles bc they're rad as fuck