Zen and the Art of Kissing (Gerard/Frank)
Zen and the Art of Kissing
Gerard/Frank
~1500 words
Summary: Oh, practical jokes. How Gerard is ill-equipped to deal with thee.
Disclaimer: Not true.
A/N: For the Download Challenge. Based on that picture. Thanks to Sky for the once-over!
The first few times, its just on the fridge, a magnet proclaiming, "Virginia is for Lovers!" holding it in place above the drawing by a four year old fan named Melanie. A little more to the left, Gee, this one said. The last had just said TOO MUCH! with a bright red arrow to his tongue. Gerard took it down each time, crumpling the paper and tossing it in the trash. "You too?" he heard the fourth time he removed it. Frank was standing behind him, shaking his head.
"Brian and Bob's idea of a joke," Gerard muttered and Frank snorted.
"I keep finding them in my bunk," Frank crossed his arms and scratched his elbow.
"So it could be worse, is what you're telling me?" Gerard asked with a grin and Frank sighed.
*
Two days later, it was most definitely worse.
"What the fuck is this?" Gerard yelled, waving his pillow in front of him as he stormed into the common area.
"Your pillow?" Brian said, totally straight-faced, and Gerard hit him with it.
"This!" he pointed to the front of the pillowcase, which had been silk-screened with the picture, his and Frank's heads almost life-sized. He'd fallen into bed in the dark last night, already mostly asleep when he crawled into his bunk, and he'd only noticed the new linens when he rolled out of bed that morning. There was a little wet patch over Frank's left ear from where he'd drooled a little.
"Hey, 'sup?" Frank padded in behind him sleepily and Gerard hugged the pillow close, offensive side pressed to his chest.
"Nothing," he mumbled and Ray snorted into his coffee as Gerard made a mad dash back to the bunks. "I hate you all," he yelled over his shoulder.
*
The books were getting a little ridiculous. This one, found tucked in Gerard's bag under his toiletries was called Zen and the Art of Kissing. Better than yesterday's The Kissing Book: Everything You Need To Know, but still not funny. "God damn it," he sighed and tossed the book on his bunk. Frank was just coming out of the bathroom and he paused, looking from the book to Gerard and back. Gerard clenched his jaw, waiting for the punch line.
"At least you're a reader," is all he said, shrugging a little sheepishly.
"What-- I don't even know what that means," Gerard spit out. It wasn't funny, and he was NOT a terrible kisser, not that that was even the point, but still--
Frank tugged open the curtain on his bunk and pulled a small box out of the storage netting near the foot. "This was on my pillow," he said, holding it out for Gerard to see.
The Art of Kissing Book of Questions and Answers: Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Perfecting Your Kissing Technique.
"It's an audio book," Frank added.
Gerard laughed so hard, Frank hit him with the box.
*
The books were pretty bad, but they weren't the worst part.
The worst was that Gerard flinched, now.
Every time Frank came near him on stage, Gerard flinched back. It wasn't enough to see from the audience; hell, Gerard wasn't even sure Frank could tell, but he was wary of cameras and angles and Frank and every time Frank was close enough to touch him, Gerard felt something in his chest constrict and pull away. It totally sucked.
A dozen shows later, Gerard was trying to get used to it. Maybe this was just how it was now, and he'd avoid Frank onstage, and that would be it. He'd tried that night, actually stalked toward Frank onstage thinking 'one kiss on the cheek, who the hell cares!'. But he'd gotten just close enough that Frank's shoulder brushed his chest and he'd had to step away. He sat in the green room after the show and wiped off his make-up with a heavy heart.
"Hey," Frank stood in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets. "Everyone's out signing," he nodded to the stage door.
"'Kay," Gerard said quietly, trying to concentrate on his own face in the mirror and not Frank standing right behind him. Frank rocked on his heels for a second before stepping inside and closing the door.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Frank's voice was a little pained.
"About what?" Gerard asked sincerely. Frank had been nothing but a sport about Gerard's weirdness.
"You know," Frank scuffed his sneakers on the ratty carpet. "About the Download thing. The kiss."
"Frank--" Gerard turned around to look at him and Frank put a hand up.
"They were just. They were pissing me off, and I didn't think about it, you know? I just did it, and I know you're getting a lot of flack for it, and I'm sorry."
Gerard blinked at him. "That's not. I'm not mad at you," he answered. Frank nodded but didn't look at him.
"I know. Just. It won't happen again, if that's what you're worried about."
Oh. Well, fuck, Gerard thought. "Frank--" he started again, needing to explain that this wasn't a Frank problem, this was a Gerard being a fucking weird-ass problem, but Frank just gave him a half smile and headed out the door.
*
Frank stopped touching him onstage. Stopped even trying.
Offstage, it wasn’t much better.
"Dude," Ray stopped him after a show. "You okay?"
"Sure," Gerard lied. "Why?"
"You're just," Ray shrugged. "Really pissed off out there. Like, Bullets levels of pissed off."
"Getting back in my groove," Gerard joked bitterly and Ray squinted at him. "Come on, I'm starved."
When they got to the bus, Gerard tried to take the seat next to Frank, grabbing a slice of pizza and settling on the couch.
"Hey, I'm done already," Frank said stiffly and stood up. "Toro, man. Grab a seat."
Gerard barely stopped himself from kicking the shit out of the nearest object.
*
"So." Gerard stood in Frank's hotel room and crossed his arms. It had been a month since Download and ever since Ray had tried that new hair pomade that made him look like one of the Jackson 5, there hadn't been a single reference to The Kiss in a week and a half, and Frank was still. Not. Touching. Gerard.
It was stupid. It was stupid, and it was frustrating and it had to stop.
"I'm over it," he said firmly and Frank's eyebrows shot up.
"You're over it?"
"Yeah, it's over, I'm over it, we can move on, okay?"
Frank opened his mouth and then closed it and swallowed. "Whatever, sure," he replied tightly and Gerard bit back a frustrated groan. What was Frank's problem? Gerard was giving him an out, was trying to be the bigger man here!
"Frank, jesus--" he started and Frank cut him off.
"No, fine, you're over it. That's great, Gee. Now we can go back to, what?" He looked pissed, and Gerard was caught off guard.
"Go back to.. before. Like it was before."
"Yeah," Frank snorted derisively. "Okay, man. Whatever you say."
"Frankie," Gerard started, but Frank was already bushing past him to the door. Gerard grabbed his upper arm and yanked him back, a little harder than he meant to. Their shoulders bumped and Frank stepped on Gerard's foot, and suddenly Frank was closer than he'd been in weeks, his skin warm under Gerard's fingers. Frank was breathing hard, his pupils dilated, and Gerard's hand tightened on Frank's arm. "Frankie," he started again, and his voice was stupidly breathy and quiet.
"What, Gee. Fuck," Frank said equally quietly, voice breaking a little on the curse, and Gerard kissed him. It was stupid and out of nowhere and completely amazing, Frank's mouth opening under his, his hands knotting in Gerard's shirt and pulling him closer. There was a press of tongue against Gerard's lips and they both moaned a little, Gerard's hands coming up to cup Frank's face, fingers tangling in Frank's long hair.
"Shit," Gerard breathed as they pulled apart. "That was--" but Frank cut him off with another kiss, his arm winding around Gerard's neck.
"Still wanna go back to before?" Frank asked a few minutes later, lips buzzing against the sensitive skin under Gerard's ear.
Gerard shook his head.
"Me either," Frank smiled and Gerard let him pull them both to the bed.
*
"Well, at least they're using the shit we bought them," Bob noted as Gerard and Frank disappeared into the back lounge for the third time that day, giggling.
"What, the kissing books?" Ray shook his head. "We should have gotten them condoms."
"Where is the artistry in that?" Brian asked around the neck of his beer. "This was way more satisfying."
"Yeah, but no one told me the side effect was a contaminated back lounge," Ray griped and Bob poked him.
"Shut up, Tito. It was about damn time and you know it."
"Fuck you both," Ray said as Brian laughed and turned up the TV to drown out the inevitable moaning.
Gerard/Frank
~1500 words
Summary: Oh, practical jokes. How Gerard is ill-equipped to deal with thee.
Disclaimer: Not true.
A/N: For the Download Challenge. Based on that picture. Thanks to Sky for the once-over!
The first few times, its just on the fridge, a magnet proclaiming, "Virginia is for Lovers!" holding it in place above the drawing by a four year old fan named Melanie. A little more to the left, Gee, this one said. The last had just said TOO MUCH! with a bright red arrow to his tongue. Gerard took it down each time, crumpling the paper and tossing it in the trash. "You too?" he heard the fourth time he removed it. Frank was standing behind him, shaking his head.
"Brian and Bob's idea of a joke," Gerard muttered and Frank snorted.
"I keep finding them in my bunk," Frank crossed his arms and scratched his elbow.
"So it could be worse, is what you're telling me?" Gerard asked with a grin and Frank sighed.
*
Two days later, it was most definitely worse.
"What the fuck is this?" Gerard yelled, waving his pillow in front of him as he stormed into the common area.
"Your pillow?" Brian said, totally straight-faced, and Gerard hit him with it.
"This!" he pointed to the front of the pillowcase, which had been silk-screened with the picture, his and Frank's heads almost life-sized. He'd fallen into bed in the dark last night, already mostly asleep when he crawled into his bunk, and he'd only noticed the new linens when he rolled out of bed that morning. There was a little wet patch over Frank's left ear from where he'd drooled a little.
"Hey, 'sup?" Frank padded in behind him sleepily and Gerard hugged the pillow close, offensive side pressed to his chest.
"Nothing," he mumbled and Ray snorted into his coffee as Gerard made a mad dash back to the bunks. "I hate you all," he yelled over his shoulder.
*
The books were getting a little ridiculous. This one, found tucked in Gerard's bag under his toiletries was called Zen and the Art of Kissing. Better than yesterday's The Kissing Book: Everything You Need To Know, but still not funny. "God damn it," he sighed and tossed the book on his bunk. Frank was just coming out of the bathroom and he paused, looking from the book to Gerard and back. Gerard clenched his jaw, waiting for the punch line.
"At least you're a reader," is all he said, shrugging a little sheepishly.
"What-- I don't even know what that means," Gerard spit out. It wasn't funny, and he was NOT a terrible kisser, not that that was even the point, but still--
Frank tugged open the curtain on his bunk and pulled a small box out of the storage netting near the foot. "This was on my pillow," he said, holding it out for Gerard to see.
The Art of Kissing Book of Questions and Answers: Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Perfecting Your Kissing Technique.
"It's an audio book," Frank added.
Gerard laughed so hard, Frank hit him with the box.
*
The books were pretty bad, but they weren't the worst part.
The worst was that Gerard flinched, now.
Every time Frank came near him on stage, Gerard flinched back. It wasn't enough to see from the audience; hell, Gerard wasn't even sure Frank could tell, but he was wary of cameras and angles and Frank and every time Frank was close enough to touch him, Gerard felt something in his chest constrict and pull away. It totally sucked.
A dozen shows later, Gerard was trying to get used to it. Maybe this was just how it was now, and he'd avoid Frank onstage, and that would be it. He'd tried that night, actually stalked toward Frank onstage thinking 'one kiss on the cheek, who the hell cares!'. But he'd gotten just close enough that Frank's shoulder brushed his chest and he'd had to step away. He sat in the green room after the show and wiped off his make-up with a heavy heart.
"Hey," Frank stood in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets. "Everyone's out signing," he nodded to the stage door.
"'Kay," Gerard said quietly, trying to concentrate on his own face in the mirror and not Frank standing right behind him. Frank rocked on his heels for a second before stepping inside and closing the door.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Frank's voice was a little pained.
"About what?" Gerard asked sincerely. Frank had been nothing but a sport about Gerard's weirdness.
"You know," Frank scuffed his sneakers on the ratty carpet. "About the Download thing. The kiss."
"Frank--" Gerard turned around to look at him and Frank put a hand up.
"They were just. They were pissing me off, and I didn't think about it, you know? I just did it, and I know you're getting a lot of flack for it, and I'm sorry."
Gerard blinked at him. "That's not. I'm not mad at you," he answered. Frank nodded but didn't look at him.
"I know. Just. It won't happen again, if that's what you're worried about."
Oh. Well, fuck, Gerard thought. "Frank--" he started again, needing to explain that this wasn't a Frank problem, this was a Gerard being a fucking weird-ass problem, but Frank just gave him a half smile and headed out the door.
*
Frank stopped touching him onstage. Stopped even trying.
Offstage, it wasn’t much better.
"Dude," Ray stopped him after a show. "You okay?"
"Sure," Gerard lied. "Why?"
"You're just," Ray shrugged. "Really pissed off out there. Like, Bullets levels of pissed off."
"Getting back in my groove," Gerard joked bitterly and Ray squinted at him. "Come on, I'm starved."
When they got to the bus, Gerard tried to take the seat next to Frank, grabbing a slice of pizza and settling on the couch.
"Hey, I'm done already," Frank said stiffly and stood up. "Toro, man. Grab a seat."
Gerard barely stopped himself from kicking the shit out of the nearest object.
*
"So." Gerard stood in Frank's hotel room and crossed his arms. It had been a month since Download and ever since Ray had tried that new hair pomade that made him look like one of the Jackson 5, there hadn't been a single reference to The Kiss in a week and a half, and Frank was still. Not. Touching. Gerard.
It was stupid. It was stupid, and it was frustrating and it had to stop.
"I'm over it," he said firmly and Frank's eyebrows shot up.
"You're over it?"
"Yeah, it's over, I'm over it, we can move on, okay?"
Frank opened his mouth and then closed it and swallowed. "Whatever, sure," he replied tightly and Gerard bit back a frustrated groan. What was Frank's problem? Gerard was giving him an out, was trying to be the bigger man here!
"Frank, jesus--" he started and Frank cut him off.
"No, fine, you're over it. That's great, Gee. Now we can go back to, what?" He looked pissed, and Gerard was caught off guard.
"Go back to.. before. Like it was before."
"Yeah," Frank snorted derisively. "Okay, man. Whatever you say."
"Frankie," Gerard started, but Frank was already bushing past him to the door. Gerard grabbed his upper arm and yanked him back, a little harder than he meant to. Their shoulders bumped and Frank stepped on Gerard's foot, and suddenly Frank was closer than he'd been in weeks, his skin warm under Gerard's fingers. Frank was breathing hard, his pupils dilated, and Gerard's hand tightened on Frank's arm. "Frankie," he started again, and his voice was stupidly breathy and quiet.
"What, Gee. Fuck," Frank said equally quietly, voice breaking a little on the curse, and Gerard kissed him. It was stupid and out of nowhere and completely amazing, Frank's mouth opening under his, his hands knotting in Gerard's shirt and pulling him closer. There was a press of tongue against Gerard's lips and they both moaned a little, Gerard's hands coming up to cup Frank's face, fingers tangling in Frank's long hair.
"Shit," Gerard breathed as they pulled apart. "That was--" but Frank cut him off with another kiss, his arm winding around Gerard's neck.
"Still wanna go back to before?" Frank asked a few minutes later, lips buzzing against the sensitive skin under Gerard's ear.
Gerard shook his head.
"Me either," Frank smiled and Gerard let him pull them both to the bed.
*
"Well, at least they're using the shit we bought them," Bob noted as Gerard and Frank disappeared into the back lounge for the third time that day, giggling.
"What, the kissing books?" Ray shook his head. "We should have gotten them condoms."
"Where is the artistry in that?" Brian asked around the neck of his beer. "This was way more satisfying."
"Yeah, but no one told me the side effect was a contaminated back lounge," Ray griped and Bob poked him.
"Shut up, Tito. It was about damn time and you know it."
"Fuck you both," Ray said as Brian laughed and turned up the TV to drown out the inevitable moaning.