Yesterday was national kissing day, and I was talking about how it would have been a good excuse for a kiss meme, and how it seemed those kind of themed memes seemed to have died out a little
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Re: Frank/Ray - Late Nights Over Monroeville 1/2delphinapterusJuly 13 2011, 05:51:23 UTC
Ray clicks the latches of his guitar case closed before he pulls his glasses off to wipe the moisture away on the bottom of his t-shirt. Mikey is already across the room, light glinting off his clean glasses, surrounded by his collection of followers. He looks just as coolly collected as he did when he and Gerard picked Ray up three hours ago. If he didn't know better he couldn't even tell that Mikey had been matching Gerard beer for beer right up until he'd pushed them both out on stage. Mikey lifts his drink up without any tell-tale shakiness as if it's his first of the evening. Mikey shifts away from somebody and the light hits the blond highlights in his hair showing Ray that his ridiculous birds nest is still perfectly in place. It makes Ray envious, he doesn't know how Mikey manages it, and he self-consciously pats his own cropped curls into place hoping they look alright.
"Fuckin' awesome, man," Frank shouts as he careens into Ray's chest.
Ray staggers and reflexive puts his arms out to steady Frank who wraps him in a hug, pounding his cupped hand forcefully against Ray's left shoulder blade. The little fucker is stronger than he looks and Ray has to plant his feet to keep himself from stumbling. The light flashes off the thin silver ring in Frank's lip as he talks, hands gesticulating wildly in the way that Ray associates with the looseness of alcohol.
"And it's like fuck man, y'know? Like fuck how you do that change in the bridge, and it's like two guitars like fucking competing except it's you," Frank says, leaning even closer to Ray so he doesn't have to shout to be heard.
Ray nods weakly not exactly sure what Frank wants but always happy to listen to his skills being praised even if Frank's own brand of playing runs to the trash side of punk. Frank's pupils are wide even for the dim lighting of the club and as he leans closer his dreds smack Ray's face giving him a strong whiff of pot. Frank is touching him again, hand patting against his bicep as Frank keeps talking about chord progression in the songs.
"F sharp," Ray corrects as he toes his guitar a little further away from Frank's feet.
"See! That's what I'm talkin' about, you just know shit like this," Frank exclaims excitedly, "you gotta tell me how you do that progression on Bring More Knives."
"Sure," Ray says wondering if Frank wants him to get out his guitar for an impromptu lesson right there while the next band sets up.
Frank bounces forward and smacks his mouth against Ray's. The kiss tastes like beer and pot smoke with the hint of salt from the chips Frank is habitually stealing from everyone. Frank kisses firm but sloppy, tongue pressing against Ray's lips for an instant before he pulls back. His lips are shiny wet. He grins wide and slaps Ray's shoulder
"Com'on Toro, I'll get you a drink," Frank orders and grabs his hand trying to pull him forward. Ray grabs his guitar and follows.
"Fuckin' awesome, man," Frank shouts as he careens into Ray's chest.
Ray staggers and reflexive puts his arms out to steady Frank who wraps him in a hug, pounding his cupped hand forcefully against Ray's left shoulder blade. The little fucker is stronger than he looks and Ray has to plant his feet to keep himself from stumbling. The light flashes off the thin silver ring in Frank's lip as he talks, hands gesticulating wildly in the way that Ray associates with the looseness of alcohol.
"And it's like fuck man, y'know? Like fuck how you do that change in the bridge, and it's like two guitars like fucking competing except it's you," Frank says, leaning even closer to Ray so he doesn't have to shout to be heard.
Ray nods weakly not exactly sure what Frank wants but always happy to listen to his skills being praised even if Frank's own brand of playing runs to the trash side of punk. Frank's pupils are wide even for the dim lighting of the club and as he leans closer his dreds smack Ray's face giving him a strong whiff of pot. Frank is touching him again, hand patting against his bicep as Frank keeps talking about chord progression in the songs.
"F sharp," Ray corrects as he toes his guitar a little further away from Frank's feet.
"See! That's what I'm talkin' about, you just know shit like this," Frank exclaims excitedly, "you gotta tell me how you do that progression on Bring More Knives."
"Sure," Ray says wondering if Frank wants him to get out his guitar for an impromptu lesson right there while the next band sets up.
Frank bounces forward and smacks his mouth against Ray's. The kiss tastes like beer and pot smoke with the hint of salt from the chips Frank is habitually stealing from everyone. Frank kisses firm but sloppy, tongue pressing against Ray's lips for an instant before he pulls back. His lips are shiny wet. He grins wide and slaps Ray's shoulder
"Com'on Toro, I'll get you a drink," Frank orders and grabs his hand trying to pull him forward. Ray grabs his guitar and follows.
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