Fundamentals
Title: Fundamentals
Author: squoze_so_hard
Pairing: Gerard/Bert
Rating: M for language
POV: Third Person/Gerard's
Summary: He thinks about whose fault it is that he is sitting in an empty room of an empty new house with only a Scrabble board and a handful of words between himself and Bert Fucking McCracken.
Disclaimer: Not real.
Author Note: I finally found the time to post this. Enjoy.
Gerard thinks about the events that brought him to this. He thinks about whose fault it is that he is sitting in an empty room of an empty new house with only a Scrabble board and a handful of words between himself and Bert Fucking McCracken.
It’s not that he doesn’t like Bert. On the contrary, he’s grown used to him always being around when Mikey drags him along to hang out with him and Bob (his friend, band mate and new brother-in-law). Gerard remembers the awkward evenings between shows when the couple would invite him along to a movie, dinner, or whatever. He remembers even more vividly his protest against being the odd man out and how Mikey would always roll his eyes and sigh.
‘You can’t be a third wheel when there are four people present, Gee.’
It’s not that Bert isn’t good company. It’s just that…
He doesn’t know, really. He’s not sure what it is about Bert.
Maybe it’s how sometimes, he goes from talking about nonsensical things to those things that melt his soul.
Maybe it’s how Bert seems, to him, to be one endless stream of consciousness. How he makes him feel like words never cease. They just go on and on and on…
Maybe it’s just that Bert makes him feel.
Period.
Gerard watches as Bert‘s eyebrows furrow deeper and deeper on his forehead, contorting his features into what Gerard likes to call his “pensive face”. He watches as the younger man’s eyes dart from the tiles on his rack to the game board, then back again.
“Bert-“, He starts before he is unceremoniously shushed. He glances at his watch. “This is ridiculous! It’s been seven minutes since I played the word ‘vengeance’. You’ve been staring at the same tiles for seven minutes!”
Bert ignores him and begins to chew on his fingernail in serious contemplation. Gerard casts a wary, longing glance at the Merriam-Webster Dictionary that lays abandoned and unused on the far side of the table. He knows that it’s cheating, but he can’t help but bargain a little.
“Hey…why don’t you look up ANY word that starts with ANY of the letters in ‘vengeance’? Please, just hurry up.” He knows that he sounded a little more desperate that he wanted to, but fuck. His ass is sore from sitting on the ground.
Bert again ignores him and rubs his chin thoughtfully. Gerard full on glares at the man and huffs impatiently.
“Relax, Lindsey Lohan. Don’t be such a drama queen.” Bert says. His eyes move rapidly from the tiles to the board. Tiles. Board. Tiles. Board.
Until finally, Gerard hears him let out a triumphant ‘AHA!’ and observes as Bert begins to place his letters. One above the ‘a’ in “vengeance” and five below. Bert crosses his arms and puffs out his chest in pride. He sits back smugly. Gerard eagerly peers over the board to get a better look at the word that took nine fucking minutes of his life to form.
‘What. The. Fuck. You’ve got to be kidding me.’
Gerard stares incredulously at the new word. D-A-blank tile-U-S-E-D.
Da used.
“Well?” Bert looks at him pointedly. “How many points is it worth?”
He knows that no matter now annoyed he is with the situation that he’s got to be gentle with this one. It may be the worst move in Scrabble history, but it’s also the cutest damn thing that he’s ever seen.
“Bert? That’s not….that’s not a word.” The younger man stares at him blankly.
“Sure it is.” It’s so nonchalant that Gerard can’t help but huff again, this time in disbelief.
“Are you kidding?” He asks. By the look on Bert’s face, however, he knows that he’s dead serious. “Um, okay. Use it in a sentence.”
“Um, okay,” Bert mocks him. “Hi, I’m Bert. I sing for Daused.”
“Robert.” Gerard says pointedly. That’s your band’s name. You can’t use proper nouns in Scrabble. Plus, it’s grammatically incorrect.“
“Actually,” Bert starts.
Oh shit, Gerard thinks. Is Bert McCracken really going to try to school him right now?
“Da is a word, and Used is a word. That means that ‘Daused’ is a compound word, and the last time I checked… those are okay.”
Gerard mentally questions when the last time was that Bert played a game of Scrabble, let alone brushed up on the rule book.
“Da is not a word.”
Bert cocks his head to the side. Gerard prepares for whatever is about to come next. “Is that a challenge?”
Hell yeah.
“Hell yeah, it is. Hand me the dictionary, McCracken.”
Bert grins manically and wags his finger at Gerard. “Uh uh, GeeWay. You want it, come get it.”
Maybe Gerard simply missed the implications of the challenge. Maybe he just wasn’t ready to see it.
“Fine.” He says gruffly. He grabs the edges of the table for support and pulls himself up on his knees. He crawls the few feet over to the other side of the table and stops right in front of Bert. As he reaches up over the younger man’s head to grab the book, he realizes how close they really are. Not only physically in this moment, but how somewhere between meeting Bert for the first time on a hot summer day and now, the man had become someone that he could spend a nice quiet evening with and feel… okay about it. Perhaps more than okay. Definitely.
In his pause, he realizes that Bert has noticed, too, how natural this all is. There they were, sitting in someone else’s home, empty, but full, creating something of their own. Something that went without saying. Without words.
He closes his hand around the dictionary and begins to retreat slowly to his side of the board. In that same instant, he gasps in surprise as Bert’s warm hands plant themselves firmly on his sides, pull him down into his lap and hold him in place. He barely has enough space to tilt his own head down and look into Bert’s glassy eyes. When he finally does, those pretty, blue eyes are already on his own.
“Hey, gorgeous.” Bert whispers. “Stay with me for a while.”
That it, Gerard thinks. That’s what Bert does. He just says shit and makes it sounds like the easiest thing in the world. It burns his insides to hear it, but it sounds so fucking good that Gerard decides to just let it slide on down to his heart by way of his ears, eyes, nose and mouth. Every aspect of it is Bert, he realizes, and as whatever it is coats his chest, he surrenders knowing that…
He doesn’t have to question it. Because Bert will always be there to fill in the blanks with words, even if he has to make them up.
Bert gives Gerard a sweet kiss on the cheek to let him know that he’s not rushing him. He can take all of the silence that he needs.
Gerard feels the sting of the lips on his skin and turns his head to capture Bert’s lips with his own for a first, brief kiss that is the start of everything.
This is the mouth, he thinks, that never shuts the fuck up. Suddenly Gerard feels like he could talk about them for the rest of his life. Instead, he nuzzles his face into the side of Bert’s neck and lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.
Author: squoze_so_hard
Pairing: Gerard/Bert
Rating: M for language
POV: Third Person/Gerard's
Summary: He thinks about whose fault it is that he is sitting in an empty room of an empty new house with only a Scrabble board and a handful of words between himself and Bert Fucking McCracken.
Disclaimer: Not real.
Author Note: I finally found the time to post this. Enjoy.
Gerard thinks about the events that brought him to this. He thinks about whose fault it is that he is sitting in an empty room of an empty new house with only a Scrabble board and a handful of words between himself and Bert Fucking McCracken.
It’s not that he doesn’t like Bert. On the contrary, he’s grown used to him always being around when Mikey drags him along to hang out with him and Bob (his friend, band mate and new brother-in-law). Gerard remembers the awkward evenings between shows when the couple would invite him along to a movie, dinner, or whatever. He remembers even more vividly his protest against being the odd man out and how Mikey would always roll his eyes and sigh.
‘You can’t be a third wheel when there are four people present, Gee.’
It’s not that Bert isn’t good company. It’s just that…
He doesn’t know, really. He’s not sure what it is about Bert.
Maybe it’s how sometimes, he goes from talking about nonsensical things to those things that melt his soul.
Maybe it’s how Bert seems, to him, to be one endless stream of consciousness. How he makes him feel like words never cease. They just go on and on and on…
Maybe it’s just that Bert makes him feel.
Period.
Gerard watches as Bert‘s eyebrows furrow deeper and deeper on his forehead, contorting his features into what Gerard likes to call his “pensive face”. He watches as the younger man’s eyes dart from the tiles on his rack to the game board, then back again.
“Bert-“, He starts before he is unceremoniously shushed. He glances at his watch. “This is ridiculous! It’s been seven minutes since I played the word ‘vengeance’. You’ve been staring at the same tiles for seven minutes!”
Bert ignores him and begins to chew on his fingernail in serious contemplation. Gerard casts a wary, longing glance at the Merriam-Webster Dictionary that lays abandoned and unused on the far side of the table. He knows that it’s cheating, but he can’t help but bargain a little.
“Hey…why don’t you look up ANY word that starts with ANY of the letters in ‘vengeance’? Please, just hurry up.” He knows that he sounded a little more desperate that he wanted to, but fuck. His ass is sore from sitting on the ground.
Bert again ignores him and rubs his chin thoughtfully. Gerard full on glares at the man and huffs impatiently.
“Relax, Lindsey Lohan. Don’t be such a drama queen.” Bert says. His eyes move rapidly from the tiles to the board. Tiles. Board. Tiles. Board.
Until finally, Gerard hears him let out a triumphant ‘AHA!’ and observes as Bert begins to place his letters. One above the ‘a’ in “vengeance” and five below. Bert crosses his arms and puffs out his chest in pride. He sits back smugly. Gerard eagerly peers over the board to get a better look at the word that took nine fucking minutes of his life to form.
‘What. The. Fuck. You’ve got to be kidding me.’
Gerard stares incredulously at the new word. D-A-blank tile-U-S-E-D.
Da used.
“Well?” Bert looks at him pointedly. “How many points is it worth?”
He knows that no matter now annoyed he is with the situation that he’s got to be gentle with this one. It may be the worst move in Scrabble history, but it’s also the cutest damn thing that he’s ever seen.
“Bert? That’s not….that’s not a word.” The younger man stares at him blankly.
“Sure it is.” It’s so nonchalant that Gerard can’t help but huff again, this time in disbelief.
“Are you kidding?” He asks. By the look on Bert’s face, however, he knows that he’s dead serious. “Um, okay. Use it in a sentence.”
“Um, okay,” Bert mocks him. “Hi, I’m Bert. I sing for Daused.”
“Robert.” Gerard says pointedly. That’s your band’s name. You can’t use proper nouns in Scrabble. Plus, it’s grammatically incorrect.“
“Actually,” Bert starts.
Oh shit, Gerard thinks. Is Bert McCracken really going to try to school him right now?
“Da is a word, and Used is a word. That means that ‘Daused’ is a compound word, and the last time I checked… those are okay.”
Gerard mentally questions when the last time was that Bert played a game of Scrabble, let alone brushed up on the rule book.
“Da is not a word.”
Bert cocks his head to the side. Gerard prepares for whatever is about to come next. “Is that a challenge?”
Hell yeah.
“Hell yeah, it is. Hand me the dictionary, McCracken.”
Bert grins manically and wags his finger at Gerard. “Uh uh, GeeWay. You want it, come get it.”
Maybe Gerard simply missed the implications of the challenge. Maybe he just wasn’t ready to see it.
“Fine.” He says gruffly. He grabs the edges of the table for support and pulls himself up on his knees. He crawls the few feet over to the other side of the table and stops right in front of Bert. As he reaches up over the younger man’s head to grab the book, he realizes how close they really are. Not only physically in this moment, but how somewhere between meeting Bert for the first time on a hot summer day and now, the man had become someone that he could spend a nice quiet evening with and feel… okay about it. Perhaps more than okay. Definitely.
In his pause, he realizes that Bert has noticed, too, how natural this all is. There they were, sitting in someone else’s home, empty, but full, creating something of their own. Something that went without saying. Without words.
He closes his hand around the dictionary and begins to retreat slowly to his side of the board. In that same instant, he gasps in surprise as Bert’s warm hands plant themselves firmly on his sides, pull him down into his lap and hold him in place. He barely has enough space to tilt his own head down and look into Bert’s glassy eyes. When he finally does, those pretty, blue eyes are already on his own.
“Hey, gorgeous.” Bert whispers. “Stay with me for a while.”
That it, Gerard thinks. That’s what Bert does. He just says shit and makes it sounds like the easiest thing in the world. It burns his insides to hear it, but it sounds so fucking good that Gerard decides to just let it slide on down to his heart by way of his ears, eyes, nose and mouth. Every aspect of it is Bert, he realizes, and as whatever it is coats his chest, he surrenders knowing that…
He doesn’t have to question it. Because Bert will always be there to fill in the blanks with words, even if he has to make them up.
Bert gives Gerard a sweet kiss on the cheek to let him know that he’s not rushing him. He can take all of the silence that he needs.
Gerard feels the sting of the lips on his skin and turns his head to capture Bert’s lips with his own for a first, brief kiss that is the start of everything.
This is the mouth, he thinks, that never shuts the fuck up. Suddenly Gerard feels like he could talk about them for the rest of his life. Instead, he nuzzles his face into the side of Bert’s neck and lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.