Dumpling Soup for the Teenage Soul [oneshot, 1,706 words]
Title: Dumpling Soup for the Teenage Soul
Author: sexontoasties
Pairing(s): Frank/Gerard
Rating: PG
Summary: "Frank are you... are you fucking pissing on my fron lawn?" Gerard exclaims, flapping his hands a little because oh my god, Frank is fucking peeing on his front lawn.
POV: Third person
Beta: infrontofthesea
Disclaimer: All fake
A/N: Just a little something to get me out of my writers block. I was prompted with the words 'yellow' and 'snow'. This is what happened.
Gerard knows he wouldn’t be bundled up in bed right now with two empty boxes of tissues and a half full bottle of Nyquil on the dresser next to him if he was actually smart. He knows that he wouldn’t have a red, raw nose full of fucking snot and a clogged throat barely allowing him to breathe if he was fucking smart. But no. Gerard Way is a dumb ass and that’s why he’s home sick instead of at school.
Yeah, school sucks and most teenagers would love to be home coughing their lungs out instead of learning, but most kids don’t have a fucking hawk for a mother who comes in every fucking minute to pester him or drug him up on medicine. She even rolled in the portable TV from the guest bedroom earlier and sat in bed with Gerard and watched Food Network with him for 3 hours. Yes, being at the hellhole he calls school instead of home sick with his mother right now is definitely the more appealing choice. This is why he tries never to get sick, damn it.
Anyways, back to the point. How was Gerard supposed to know that sitting outside for four hours in the January snow so he could finish his charcoal sketch of the graveyard a few blocks over was a bad idea? How was he supposed to know that wearing only a hoodie and a scarf wasn’t the most brightest of his ideas?
Oh, right. because Gerard Way is a dumb ass.
--
Gerard groans when he hears his door creak open again and he tugs his comforter over his head. “Mom go away I just want to sleep and wallow in my sickness alone.”
“Gerard,” she says huffily, walking closer and tugging the blanket off of his head. “You have to take your medicine, dear.”
Gerard sits up and squints at her. “You are going to overdose me mom, oh my god.”
She grabs the bottle of medicine and pours a nice big dose of it, holding it out for Gerard to take. Gerard frowns at the liquid, but then grabs it and gulps it down anyways, shivering at the taste. It’s just Nyquil, so the worst that can happen if he takes too much is that he sleep for a day longer than is probably normal. He just knows that the only way to get rid of his mother is to do what she wants, and then hopes she leaves for a least an hour. That’s usually the most Gerard gets away from her when he’s sick.
His mother fusses around for a few more minutes, fluffing his pillow and feeling his forehead and what not, and Gerard silently waits her out. Finally she nods, satisfied, and kisses his cheek, saying something about checking up on him soon.
Once alone again, Gerard lets out a deep breath and flops back on his bed, which in turn makes him go into a slight coughing fit. He reaches over and gulps down half of the glass of fresh water his mom left for him, and it’s then that he notices a slight tapping noise coming from his window.
He sets the glass down and pauses for a moment, quiet, and he’s about to lie back down, convinced the noise was just in his head, when it starts up again. Gerard frowns and climbs out of bed, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders, and walks over to the window, peering out.
He looks down at the white snow covering his front lawn and sees someone smiling and waving at him in the puffiest red coat that Gerard’s ever seen. Gerard rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
“Fucking Frank oh my god,” he mutters, tugging the blanket tighter around himself as he struggles to pry the window open and stick his head out.
“Hi!” Frank yells up to him, waving a mitten clad hand happily. He’s bundled up so much that Gerard thinks briefly about how he looks like some sort of punk rock marshmallow, and then he laughs at the thought.
“Don’t laugh at me asshole!” Frank yells up at him again. “I came to make you feel better!”
Gerard raises an eyebrow, but the superior effect he was going for cuts out when he starts coughing and has to turn around and spit out some fucking phlegm into the trashcan by his bed. When he returns to the window, Frank’s back is turned to him and his head is bowed to the ground, like he’s concentrating really hard on something. Gerard squints down at him, and when Frank steps to the right Gerard’s mouth falls open.
“Frank are you... are you fucking pissing on my front lawn?” Gerard exclaims, flapping his hands a little because oh my god, Frank is fucking peeing on his lawn.
Frank just turns his head and grins before turning back to his... his fucking creation or whatever. Gerard doesn’t really know what to say or do because, well, what is someone supposed to do when they’re best friend is urinating some sort of message on their lawn?
Gerard just sighs and plops onto the floor in front of his window, leaning his head on the wall. He really hopes his mom doesn’t come in for her hourly check up because he doesn’t exactly know how he’s going to explain this one.
Gerard didn’t even notice he was dozing off until he feels a tiny thump on his head. He blinks his eyes open and looks down and sees a tiny pebble in his lap. Fucking Frank, man.
He turns around and shifts so he’s kneeling in front of the window, just enough for him to peek out because he’s kind of lazy and doesn’t feel like standing up again, and he sees Frank staring up at him with a toothy grin on his face, hands on his hips proudly.Gerard sticks his head out a bit more and narrows his eyes, trying to read whatever his best friend decided to pee into the snow for him.
“feel better gee xo,” Gerard reads out loud. Frank just grins up at him again, satisfied with his work, and yeah, it’s written in Frank’s piss but Gerard can’t help the warm feeling that spreads though his body upon reading the little note. He rolls his eyes, sniffles a little, and says,
“I don’t have a clock up here but it better be past 2:20 because if you actually skipped school to pee on my lawn I’m so telling your mom.”
Frank waves his hand dismissively and says, “Dude it’s like 4 pm already. It’s all good. Now can I come up? I’m cold.”
“You’re wearing like 20 pounds of clothes. How are you cold?” Gerard asks in disbelief.
Frank smiles again, but it’s smaller, more soft. “Okay, so I’m not really that cold. I just want to come up and see you, okay?”
Gerard blushes a little and ducks his head, fiddling with a thread on the blanket wrapped around him.”You’ll get sick, though.”
Frank just shrugs, his poofy ass jacket barely allowing that tiny bit of movement, and says, “Then I guess you’ll just have to come pee on my lawn to make up for it.”
Gerard rolls his eyes, but nods towards the front door. “It’s open. But beware. My mom’s kind of bat shit crazy right now.”
Frank salutes him and walks over to the front door, letting himself in. Gerard shuts the window and climbs back in bed, bundling back up in his comforter and letting out a shaky breath, trying not to enter a coughing fit again.
The Nyquil has made him super drowsy, so by the time Frank opens the door and walks in his bedroom, his eyes are half closed and he’s on the brink of sleep once again. Frank smiles fondly and says,
“Gerard, I convinced your mom that you needed more soup so she’s down there making some of that home made dumpling stuff.”
Gerard groans and says, “Frank, I hate that dumpling stuff.”
Frank laughs and sits on the edge of the bed, toeing off his shoes and peeling off his layers and layers of coats. “Yeah, but I don’t.”
Gerard just curls up tighter and closes his eyes completely, too tired to try and stay awake to entertain Frank. He’s sick, damn it. He has a right to be lazy and sleep and ignore his best friend. Frank crawls up the bed and pokes Gerard in the shoulder.
“Gerard,” he whispers. Gerard mumbles something into his pillow and rolls over so his back is to Frank. Frank rolls his eyes and takes off his hoodie, leaving him in just a tee shirt, and then slips under the covers with Gerard, curling up close.
Gerard makes an appreciative noise and turns back around so he’s facing Frank. “Mm, warm.”
Frank curls a hand in Gerard’s shirt and shifts closer, tucking his head under the older boy’s chin. He hums happily, because he fucking loves cuddling with Gerard, okay. Sick or not.
“You smell like gingerbread,” Frank says quietly. There’s no need for him to be quiet, but for some reason he feels it’s necessary. He’s rarely ever quiet, especially around Gerard, but at times like these he likes the soft spoken air. He likes the way the whisper of his voice just sort of melts into the fabric of Gerard’s shirt.
Gerard goes ‘mhm’ and says, “Yeah, my mom’s been forcing my to eat the leftover gingerbread cookies from Christmas. She says cookies will make me feel better.”
“And do they?” Frank asks, tilting his head up.
Gerard shrugs. “A little. I think you’re helping more than the cookies though.”
Frank grins and leans up, kissing Gerard’s cheek. “Go to sleep.”
Gerard smiles sleepily and burrows closer to Frank’s warmth. “Gladly.”
Frank watches Gerard as he closes his eyes again, dark eyelashes fanning over pale skin, and he presses a quick closed mouth kiss to Gerard’s slightly chapped lips right before he dozes off completely. The older boy’s lips quirk up, and he pulls Frank even closer, if possible, and falls asleep with a smile on his face.
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