Goodnight Sweetheart ~ Frank/Gerard
Title: Goodnight Sweetheart
Author : slashxyouxup
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Rating: PG13
Summary: Frank never realised he and Gerard had become such an old couple.
Warnings: fluff and kissing.
Disclaimer: Writer’s lie - just like your parents.
Written for the ‘Bedtime Rituals’ prompt from my schmoop_bingo card.
Frank never realised he and Gerard had become such an old couple. He’s not exactly sure how it happened or even sure when, but sure enough Gerard’s standing there in his flannel pajamas, for the millionth night in a row, making Frank one of those amazing hot chocolates he makes. He hums a Metallica song Frank barely recognises and taps his bare foot against the tiled floor in Frank’s way too small kitchen in his way too cramped apartment (though Gerard’s always managed to squeeze himself in comfortably). He turns all the switches off in the kitchen, flips off the lights and pads his way across tile and carpet with a piece of toast in his mouth and two mugs in his hands. He stops when he gets to Frank’s bedroom and turns to quirk his eyebrows. “You comin’?” he asks.
Frank smiles and nods. “Yeah,” he replies.
He and Gerard have been together about a year and a half now. They met at some ridiculously uncool house party five years ago, but it took Gerard what felt like a lifetime to stop being a wuss and ask Frank out. So here they are now after surviving those first few tragic dates when Gerard was a nervous wreck and said stupid things like “So, vegetarian? Does that include not eating people too?” Fortunately for Gerard, Frank’s major turn on is weird, nervous men who talk with their hands.
Frank takes off his hoodie and slips under the covers. It’s been surprisingly warm in New Jersey lately, not that Frank ever sleeps in much clothes anyway, unlike Gerard who insists on having matching pajamas - the kind your mother gives your grandpa for Christmas. Gerard turns on the lamp and opens his book, some tragic metaphorical novel Frank’s guessing, whilst taking the first sip of his coffee. Frank grabs at his mug excitedly and takes in a big whiff of chocolate. He takes a gulp that almost scolds his throat and then kisses Gerard’s cheek, leaving a big smear of cream. Gerard laughs and wipes it away before sliding his hand in to Frank’s hair as he gets back to his book. Frank leans in to the feeling of Gerard’s fingers running through his hair and sips his hot chocolate contently.
“You stay here a lot,” he suddenly says. Gerard side glances him.
“Is that a problem?”
Frank shakes his head. “No, I love having you around.” Gerard smiles. “I just hate it when you have to leave again.”
“I know, but you know how suspicious that crazy ass landlord gets. And there’s only so many days I can live off your band t-shirts.”
“So, what if,” Frank starts, tilting his head to the side, “what if you brought all of your stuff here?”
Gerard presses his lips together. “Well then I’d be going back and forth all the time, and that really wouldn’t make any sense.” Frank rolls his eyes.
“What if you moved in with me, you oblivious moron?” Gerard almost drops his book. “I mean, you practically live here already,” he adds, now a little nervous.
Gerard starts to smile, his lips twitching until he’s full on beaming at Frank. “You want me and my flannel pajamas to move in?” Frank giggles and rolls his head on to Gerard’s shoulder.
“Yeah…” he drawls, “and your Johnny Bravo boxers too.”
Author : slashxyouxup
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Rating: PG13
Summary: Frank never realised he and Gerard had become such an old couple.
Warnings: fluff and kissing.
Disclaimer: Writer’s lie - just like your parents.
Written for the ‘Bedtime Rituals’ prompt from my schmoop_bingo card.
Frank never realised he and Gerard had become such an old couple. He’s not exactly sure how it happened or even sure when, but sure enough Gerard’s standing there in his flannel pajamas, for the millionth night in a row, making Frank one of those amazing hot chocolates he makes. He hums a Metallica song Frank barely recognises and taps his bare foot against the tiled floor in Frank’s way too small kitchen in his way too cramped apartment (though Gerard’s always managed to squeeze himself in comfortably). He turns all the switches off in the kitchen, flips off the lights and pads his way across tile and carpet with a piece of toast in his mouth and two mugs in his hands. He stops when he gets to Frank’s bedroom and turns to quirk his eyebrows. “You comin’?” he asks.
Frank smiles and nods. “Yeah,” he replies.
He and Gerard have been together about a year and a half now. They met at some ridiculously uncool house party five years ago, but it took Gerard what felt like a lifetime to stop being a wuss and ask Frank out. So here they are now after surviving those first few tragic dates when Gerard was a nervous wreck and said stupid things like “So, vegetarian? Does that include not eating people too?” Fortunately for Gerard, Frank’s major turn on is weird, nervous men who talk with their hands.
Frank takes off his hoodie and slips under the covers. It’s been surprisingly warm in New Jersey lately, not that Frank ever sleeps in much clothes anyway, unlike Gerard who insists on having matching pajamas - the kind your mother gives your grandpa for Christmas. Gerard turns on the lamp and opens his book, some tragic metaphorical novel Frank’s guessing, whilst taking the first sip of his coffee. Frank grabs at his mug excitedly and takes in a big whiff of chocolate. He takes a gulp that almost scolds his throat and then kisses Gerard’s cheek, leaving a big smear of cream. Gerard laughs and wipes it away before sliding his hand in to Frank’s hair as he gets back to his book. Frank leans in to the feeling of Gerard’s fingers running through his hair and sips his hot chocolate contently.
“You stay here a lot,” he suddenly says. Gerard side glances him.
“Is that a problem?”
Frank shakes his head. “No, I love having you around.” Gerard smiles. “I just hate it when you have to leave again.”
“I know, but you know how suspicious that crazy ass landlord gets. And there’s only so many days I can live off your band t-shirts.”
“So, what if,” Frank starts, tilting his head to the side, “what if you brought all of your stuff here?”
Gerard presses his lips together. “Well then I’d be going back and forth all the time, and that really wouldn’t make any sense.” Frank rolls his eyes.
“What if you moved in with me, you oblivious moron?” Gerard almost drops his book. “I mean, you practically live here already,” he adds, now a little nervous.
Gerard starts to smile, his lips twitching until he’s full on beaming at Frank. “You want me and my flannel pajamas to move in?” Frank giggles and rolls his head on to Gerard’s shoulder.
“Yeah…” he drawls, “and your Johnny Bravo boxers too.”