Fic: Skeleton Records (Frank/Gerard for mcrsecretsanta exchange)
Title: Skeleton Records
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Rating: M
Length: 6,252 words
Disclaimer: Completely untrue and fictitious.
Warnings: Bad Language. Boy kissing. Mentions of Whitney Houston.
Summary: Gerard has a crush on the hot guy at the record store.
Author’s Notes: Written for slashxyouxup over at mcrsecretsanta - hope you like it girl! Huge thanks to gracie321 for the spectacularly fast beta. Also this is my first completed non-porny bandom fic so I hope it’s okay. *shakes nervously*. It was supposed to be a lot shorter.
Skeleton Records
"No way. That is the stupidest idea I have ever heard." It's a big call, but Gerard thinks it's a fair one. "There's no way I'm buying a fucking Whitney Houston CD from the hot guy at the record store."
"You want him to notice you right?" Ray's spinning sugar packets across the table as he talks. They're smushed into a booth at an old diner and Gerard can't keep still. He's already finished his coffee but he doesn't have enough money left to buy another one.
"Yeah, but not because he thinks I have tragic taste in music."
"Tell him it's for your sister." Ray is just not taking this seriously at all.
"Hello, Ray? I don't have fucking sister."
"He doesn't know that. Besides, put Mikey in a dress - I think he'd pass." Ray's grinning like a loon.
"Oh thanks, Toro." Gerard's voice is dripping sarcasm. Now there's a mental image he just didn't need.
The really annoying part is that Ray, to some degree, is right. Gerard can't just keep hanging around at Skeleton Records hoping Frank (well, that's the name on his lanyard) will notice him. Gerard's spent more money on CD's in the past month than he usually would in a year and he has yet to breach the two-sentence customer conversation limit with the afore-mentioned hot record store employee.
At first Gerard actually had some CD's he'd needed to buy. Then there were a few back catalogue items from favorite bands that he probably wouldn't have bought if it wasn't going to give him a reason to cross Frank's path, but whatever, it's not like he won't listen to them. Maybe it was slightly stalkerish of him to buy the Bouncing Souls without hearing them first just because Frank once wore one of their t-shirts. But buying a second copy of The Misfits American Psycho just in case his current copy gets scratched or lost is starting to push the boundaries of what even Gerard can justify as normal and reasonable behavior.
So this is how he ends up back at Skeleton the following Saturday (because Frank works Tuesday through Saturday and Gerard knows this and he knows that knowing this makes him kind of creepy but hey, whatever). He's wandering the aisles with a copy of Whitney Houston's Whitney tucked as far up under his arm as he can because he's still not sure if he can bear the thought of being seen with it.
After doing about three laps around the store and staring blankly at the racks like he's seeking divine intervention, he realizes that if he doesn't purchase something and leave soon he's really going to look like a creeper. So he trudges up to the counter, feeling a hot blush creeping up his neck before he's even placed the CD in front of the object of his fixation.
Frank's leaning over the counter, all attention focused on the staff computer. He's looking hot which is no surprise as it's his natural state. He's in his usual uniform of a band t-shirt and jeans which leaves just enough of his skin exposed that Gerard finds it infinitely distracting. Although Frank could probably be covered from head to toe in a cloak and a balaclava and Gerard would still find it distracting. Actually a balaclava might even be kind of sexy on Frank. Gerard gives himself a mental shake that shivers over his shoulders and down his torso. This is not the time to be thinking about that.
Once the CD is on the counter it takes an immense effort for Gerard to remove his hands from the case because he's intensely dreading the moment when Frank sees the cover. Despite Ray's master plan, at this point in time Gerard is hoping Frank won't notice he's purchasing an eighties R&B pop album, even though that is the point of the whole exercise.
Finally Frank's attention turns from the computer to the CD on the counter and then to the customer standing before him trying very hard not to fidget.
"That's not for you is it?" Frank asks, one of his eyebrows quirked up over those gorgeous amber green eyes that Gerard is having trouble meeting right now.
Gerard turns a deep shade of pink, muttering. "No. No it's uh... for my sister."
"Oh good." Frank smiles then and Gerard dies a little at the sight. He has a really gorgeous smile. "You usually have such good taste, it would be a bit disappointing."
Gerard manages a rather forced smile back even though he feels like his face is on fire and he's certain he's sweating now. How attractive.
"Ah. Thanks." Gerard chokes out. Wow this is going really well. What a fucking conversationalist he is. He can't keep looking at Frank, it's just messing with his concentration. He lets his gaze fall to the counter and finds himself staring absently at a flyer. And he must be hallucinating because he's even seeing Frank's face on the paper too. Hang on, that is Frank's face, along with four others and the words "Pencey Prep" emblazoned across the top.
Gerard snatches up the flyer, "Hey, is this you?" The words are out of his mouth before even registering with his brain.
Gerard looks up from the page and Frank's wearing that killer smile again, "Yep, that's my band Pencey Prep." Gerard needs a moment here because shit, the hot record store guy is in a band and that just increases the intensity of his hotness to incinerating levels.
"Cool." Gerard's grinning like a little kid with an ice cream cone.
"We're playing the Loop Lounge with Nada Surf on Thursday if you're interested. I think we'd be right up your alley."
Gerard's trying really hard to remind himself that guys who are in bands spend their entire lives pimping their gigs out to anyone who'll listen and he really shouldn't read too far into this. He can't help himself though, he's grinning wide and blushing like he just got asked to the fucking prom.
"Um. Yeah, sure I might check it out." he stammers awkwardly, clutching the flyer. Never mind his fear of crowds and mild agoraphobia. Never mind that the flyer's got the gig as being ten dollars which he wont even have after he's wasted his last fifteen on a CD he doesn't want.
A CD that Frank's now picking up off the counter and zapping with the barcode machine.
"Actually-" Gerard makes a half-hearted grab for the CD, aborting it before it really begins. "I don't think I'll take that... Mike-ah, Michelle can buy her own damn CD's."
"You sure?" Frank's still clutching the CD, eyebrows raised in question.
"Yeah." Gerard can feel his skin burning. He's trying really hard to hide behind his hair. "Don't worry about it. I'll uh.... I'll leave it." He's flapping his hand way too emphatically, so he drops it down to his side like a dead fish.
"Okay, if you're sure." Frank flips over the CD jewel case. "Actually you know it looks like the case is cracked." Gerard watches with a kind of horror as Frank pops the case open and pulls out the CD, studying the back of it. "Well look at that, there's a scratch on the disc too. It's damaged stock. I could give it to you for a discount. Say, five dollars?"
Frank's grinning at him like they're sharing a secret and Gerard just wants to melt into the floor. Something's going on and he's not sure what it is but it's making his insides tumble and turn and he just can't get his brain to work with Frank smiling at him like that.
There's something hopeful and conspiratorial in Frank's grin and suddenly there's just no question of Gerard not agreeing with whatever the fuck the cute guy wants. Before he knows it he's handing over a five with numb fingers and then presto, he's the proud owner of such hits as "I Wanna Dance With Somebody". Under normal circumstances this would be cause for alarm, but Frank's still smiling secretly at Gerard and even though it's making him tremble a little, it's just about the best thing in the entire world.
"Ah thanks. That's... uh. Thanks." Gerard is torn between wanting to soak up Frank's presence, memorize that brilliant smile and the overwhelming urge to run away very fast before he either dies of embarrassment or faints. He settles for backing away slowly. This seems to work until his back hits something solid, which turns out to be the punk section. It rattles but thankfully nothing breaks. Gerard flushes red again and gives his best attempt at a smile at a very amused looking Frank, who looks like he's trying really hard not laugh.
At that point Gerard decides to cut his losses and walk out of the store facing forwards, his expression falling into a grimace the moment he turns away from Frank. Jesus, he is just such a complete and total loser.
He's nearly to the safety of the outside of the store, completely free of further incidents when he hears Frank's voice over the piped music.
"See you at the show, yeah?"
Trying his very best for casual he throws back over his shoulder, "Yeah, see you there." But the act of turning mid-sentence throws him slightly off course and he winds up slamming his shoulder on the doorframe on his way out. It hurts a lot, but he tries really hard not to show it until he's outside the store with the door safely closed behind him. Then he jumps around and clutches his shoulder and swears. A lot.
His shoulder is hurting, he just made himself look like ten different flavors of idiot and he's clutching a flyer in his hand for a gig he's really not sure he can go to, which will cost his last ten dollars and Frank will be so busy performing he won't even see him if he does make it.
But somehow he's still smiling, because that was at least a six sentence conversation, Frank gave him a fucking discount, and said he had good taste in music. Good fucking taste.
There's just going to be no living with Ray when he hears about this.
***
Gerard is so concerned about getting to the gig on time that he ends up at the venue two hours early. Not wanting to look like an over eager groupie, he hides out at a diner across the road, scrounging together enough loose change to purchase a coffee which he nurses for at least forty-five minutes.
He tried to convince Ray to come with him, but Ray apparently has better things to do than chaperone his socially challenged friend on his not-date with the hot record store guy. Mikey just sniffed at him and to be honest Gerard was a bit relieved he didn't want to come because no matter how passable Ray thinks Mikey might be, Gerard doesn't really want to see his brother in a dress.
He glances across the street to the venue, and the doors aren't even open yet. How did he manage to get here so early? Luckily he brought a sketchbook with him. He digs it out and opens it, doodling across the page whatever shapes his hand feels like forming. He does not sketch Frank's face, or his hands, or any part of him really, because that would be creepy.
He glances up from his spiders and superheroes from time to time to check on the venue. Eventually the doors open, but Gerard doesn't even consider getting up to leave until he sees a steady flow of people crossing the threshold.
When he does get inside the venue, it's dark and loud and stinks of stale beer. He hands over his last ten dollars in exchange for a stamp on his wrist. He's flat broke now, not even enough money for a soft drink, so he finds a dark corner to loiter in and waits for the gig to start.
Pencey Prep are up first, playing support, so they barely get a lukewarm reaction when they take the stage. It doesn't seem to phase the band, though, and they deliver an enthusiastic, if slightly loose set. The best part is that Gerard can stare at Frank all he likes and not have to worry about looking weird. Frank looks damn hot on stage too, belting out lyrics into the mic and handling his guitar with a slightly pinched look of concentration.
Gerard claps and even hollers a bit when they wind up their set. Hot guy or no hot guy, they were actually pretty good. The venue packed out a little fatter as they were playing so the response is warmer now and Frank's smiling down at the crowd as he thanks them. He's shiny with sweat and flushed from standing under the hot lights and Gerard is a little bit in love.
When Frank leaves the stage, carrying his own gear, Gerard's private perv-fest is over and his throat's feeling scratchy from all the yelling, so he heads for the bar. The bartender openly glares when he asks for a glass of water, but what does Gerard care? It's not like he's a regular who needs to make friends with the bar staff.
He's wondering if maybe it's time for him to slip away, since there won't be anymore Frank action on stage, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns, wondering if maybe he's being asked to leave since he has no intention of spending any money over the bar. It's not a bouncer, it's Frank, and he's smiling that heart-stopping smile at Gerard. Words are out of reach at this point.
"So you made it?" Frank is asking.
"Ah... yeah. Well. Yeah." Gerard tries to smile but it feels more like a baring of teeth. He feels warm, flushed and a bit jittery. "Good, um... performance up there."
"Thanks." Frank smiles again and signals the bartender with a wave of his hand, asking for a beer. The bartender hands one to Frank and then recommences glaring at Gerard.
"Another water?" He scowls. Gerard just smiles meekly and waves his hand over his empty glass.
"No thanks, I'm good."
"You're drinking water?" Frank makes it sound like an abomination of the highest degree. Gerard winces internally but fights out an answer.
"I uh... forgot my money. Starving student, you know?" Somehow he winds up doing jazz hands as he says this. It's certainly not intentional.
Frank chuckles and rolls his eyes. He then calls the bartender (who's turned the scowl level up to eleven by this point) back over, and orders another beer which he hands to Gerard.
"Thanks." Gerard takes the beer reverently, knowing he's grinning too hard. He reminds himself it's an alcoholic beverage not a posy of flowers, but he's pretty pleased just the same.
Frank chinks his bottle to Gerard's and takes a swig. Gerard follows suit, taking a long swallow as he rapidly chases thoughts around his head trying to think of something to say to Frank. He needs to keep some conversation going because he's not ready to lose Frank's presence just yet.
His half-baked conversation topics turn out to be entirely unnecessary. Before he has a chance to get a word out, two heavily pierced and tattooed guys appear out of the darkness and start talking at Frank. Gerard appears to be invisible to them, possibly due to his lack of needle-induced body art. He hovers nearby for a little while, but when it becomes obvious they're not leaving anytime soon he drifts further down the bar and away from their cosy little threesome.
Gerard slumps back against the bar and sighs, taking another swallow of his beer. Well, it was fun while it lasted. He'll finish his drink and call Mikey to come and get him. It was pretty naive of him to expect much more than a quick "thanks for coming" conversation from Frank anyway. He really is out of Gerard's league.
He's swirling the last of his beer in the bottle, watching the bubbles rise when he feels someone slide in beside him, leaning against the bar.
"Sorry dude, rabid fans, you know?" Gerard looks up at Frank and very nearly spits his beer. He forces himself to swallow what's left in his mouth and coughs a little before saying,
"No, that's fine. Bet that happens all the time, yeah?" Gerard is very proud of himself for getting the words out without dying. Internally he's got a pretty intense mix of excitement/panic going on because holy shit, Frank came back. Frank is still talking to him. He's not quite sure how to handle this yet.
Frank's smothering a chuckle into his shirtsleeve. "Oh yeah, I'm such a rockstar. I can barely sleep for the screaming. We must have oh... seven fans now?" He glances up at Gerard with a quirked eyebrow and it's the first time Gerard notices he's not all confidence. His mouth is twisted at the side in a self deprecating smirk and his eyes are unsure.
"Well make it eight now." Gerard smiles shyly. "You guys were pretty good."
"Thanks." The thousand-watt smile Gerard gets from Frank is so worth it.
Frank still doesn't leave. This is simply amazing to Gerard. He keeps waiting for it to happen, steeling himself for it, but it doesn't. They talk about music and Frank buys another round but most importantly he doesn't politely end the conversation and walk off.
When Nada Surf take the stage Frank wraps his fingers around Gerard's wrist and drags him into the mosh pit and even though every part of Gerard's brain is screaming get out, he doesn't even panic. Frank doesn't stop until they're right down in front and Gerard is smushed up against Frank's back, and somehow this is okay. Gerard can handle being packed in with the strange bodies, because he's pushed up against Frank, with Frank's belt-studs pressing into his hips and his nose full of Frank's hair that smells like cigarettes and sweat and a deep underneath that's something flowery.
It's even better than okay. Especially the times when Frank turns around and grabs Gerard's head to yell something into his ear over the gig roar. Most of the time Gerard can't even understand what he's saying, but it doesn't matter. Frank's head is so close it's brushing his and the feel of Frank's fingers pressing into Gerard's skin is sending heat zings down his back and it's all good. It's all so fucking good.
As far as Gerard is concerned, the gig could go on for hours, days.
Sadly it has to finish sometime, so after screaming for an encore and getting two more songs, the lights go up and Gerard has to peel his body from Frank's and try to be at peace with the knowledge that this is going to end now. Frank's going to say goodnight or "see you around" and then Gerard will have to find some more CD's to buy if he wants to see him again. Maybe he could sell some of his own and then replace them with new copies.
Except Frank's not saying goodnight, he's handing him another beer and introducing him to a couple of the guys from Nada Surf. They all chat for a while and Gerard even manages to make a few contributions to the conversation and it's strangely not weird that Gerard is there, with these band guys. Gerard, the strange art student who's not good with people is actually drinking and talking and laughing with these guys and holy shit he seems to even be enjoying himself. It has to be Frank, he figures. Something about Frank is making this work, though he's not sure what and he's not sure if he wants to think about it too much because it just makes him want Frank around on a permanent basis and that's entirely out of the question.
When the Nada Surf guys need to make tracks, Frank and Gerard help them lug their gear out. Then it's just the two of them again and Gerard is amazed that they haven't run out of things to talk about yet. When Frank orders another round and the bartender openly glares at them, Gerard glances around, finally noticing the venue is nearly empty. It must be late. He glances at his watch.
"Jesus, it's 2am!"
"You gotta be somewhere?" Frank's asking as he hands Gerard a final beer. That unsure look is back, crinkling Frank's brow as he chews his lip.
"No, no." Gerard's words come out in a rush. "It's just... late, you know?" Then Gerard remembers, muttering under his breath. "Fuck, Mikey's going to kill me."
"Mikey?" Frank's asking, brow now double creased and he actually looks concerned.
"My brother." The words are out before Gerard has a chance to think of the consequences. He winces internally and hopes like hell that Frank doesn't notice and think it's weird that he supposedly has a brother named Michael and a sister named Michelle. It doesn't seem to click immediately though, Frank's only response is a visible loosening of his limbs, and his brow unfurrows.
"I hope he's still up, he's my ride home." Gerard starts scrabbling in his various pockets for his phone. "It's weird he hasn't called...." Finally he finds it, pulling it out to see the screen displaying three missed calls. "Oh. He did." There are also two text messages, the second one stating categorically and with the use of several colorful words that Gerard can find his own way home tonight, thank you very much, and something about the importance of sleep.
Gerard starts running through his options, since he is now broke and stranded. Calling Ray is top of the list and hitchhiking is also a possibility, but before he gets to option three Frank cuts in.
"Do you need a ride home?"
Gerard snaps out of his internal debate and looks at Frank. Gorgeous, hot, plays-in-a-band, works-in-a-record-store Frank, who is offering Gerard a ride home. Maybe it's the beer but it feels like the world just slowed down a little and somehow in the last three seconds Gerard wound up in the wrong life. Somehow he ended up with the life where a hot guy is offering him a lift home and that is so incredibly far from his personal normal he can barely comprehend it.
"Um. Yeah?" He's so unsure his answer comes out as a question.
"Come on then."
Then he's trailing Frank backstage, Frank's throwing cables around his neck and handing him a guitar to carry while he lugs an amp out to the parking lot. They load up Frank's ancient silver-blue station wagon with gear before climbing in themselves, then they're on the road and Gerard is directing Frank to his place.
The street is quiet and deserted when they pull up outside the Way household. The windows are all dim. Gerard looks back from the house to Frank in the driver's seat.
"Thanks for the ride." For some reason being in the close proximity of the car with Frank has brought all of Gerard's nerves rushing back.
"No problem dude. Thanks for coming out." Frank got his killer smile on and Gerard's heart is racing. He's far from drunk but the alcohol in his bloodstream is making his brain click over with thoughts of things he'd like to do to Frank, things that are beyond what friends would do and it's making his skin prickle and flush and he really, really needs to get out of the car now.
He struggles with the door release but it wont budge.
"Sorry, you're trapped. The catch is broken." Frank's giving him a sly smile. Gerard's thinking maybe being trapped in a car with Frank isn't such a bad thing if he's going to keep looking at him like that, when Frank reaches for his own door handle saying, "I'll let you out."
Gerard holds very still and watches Frank open the driver door and get out. He rounds the front of the car to stand outside Gerard's door and gives it a solid thump with his hip before reaching for the handle and cracking the door open. It gives with a groan and Gerard starts to get out but is caught tight across his chest with the seatbelt he's still wearing. Damn it. Hoping Frank didn't notice, he quickly releases the catch, disentangles himself and climbs out.
Frank's holding the car door open like some kind of punk valet, the streetlight painting a halo around his head. Gerard's breath catches a little because he looks so damned good. He's not sure what to say but he feels like he should say something so he tries,
"Thanks for letting me know about the gig. I had a good night." He's having trouble meeting Frank's eyes and the whole thing is feeling a little bit like a date all of a sudden and Gerard reminds himself very solidly that it is not. He's lucky Frank took pity on him and gave him a ride and he really needs to stop behaving like a teenager. This is most certainly not a date.
"And thanks for the ride." he adds, peering out from behind his hair at Frank and maybe he's imagining it but Frank is looking almost as nervous as he is which makes no sense at all to Gerard, because what does Frank have to be nervous about?
Except Frank is looking nervous, and he's sidling closer to Gerard and Gerard is barely able to breathe because Frank's not stopping when he hits Gerard's personal space. He's leaning in closer, until Gerard can feel his body heat and see every detail of his eyelashes which are falling closed as he tilts his head up and presses his lips to Gerard's.
Gerard is so shocked he doesn't kiss back at first. He's too busy flipping out because oh my god, Frank is kissing him, what the hell? How is this even possible? His stillness isn't stopping Frank though, he's slipping a hand up the back of Gerard's neck and into his hair. Gerard comes back to himself, eyes fluttering shut, lips falling soft beneath Frank's, kissing back and it's so good he could melt.
He can feel himself flushing with heat and an embarrassing noise escapes his lips. Frank takes advantage of his open mouth and gives him tongue and Gerard likes it so much it's mortifying. Frank's got one hand locked in Gerard's hair, the other is gripping his hip and the kiss is slow and exploratory and just searingly hot. Gerard's still got both hands by his sides so he raises one and it flutters like a spastic bird for a moment before resting lightly on Frank's chest. He slips his tongue out to delicately stroke Frank's and is rewarded with a low growl from Frank which curls his toes and sends heat to his groin.
It could go on forever as far as Gerard is concerned, but Frank starts to slow things down, the kiss gets lazy and Frank's fingers start to slip from Gerard's hair. When Frank breaks the kiss and studies Gerard's face, Gerard knows he's flushed and his eyes are glazed and bright. Frank is wearing a satisfied grin and his eyes are sparkling.
"Goodnight," is all he says before he turns and ambles back to the car, leaving Gerard standing on the sidewalk, burning up and confused as hell. He walks up to his house in a daze, licking his lips like he can still taste Frank on them, trying to convince himself that actually happened.
***
"So he bought you drinks, talked to you all night, introduced you to his friends, drove you home and kissed you goodnight?" Ray ticks each item off on his fingers as he lists them. Gerard nods along miserably.
"Dude - that was a date." Ray states.
"Don't mess with me Ray. This is serious." Gerard's run his hands through his hair so often now it's sticking out all around his head like a lion's mane. "I can't start thinking I've got a chance with this guy if I don't."
"Gerard." Ray leans forward, placing his hands on the battered diner tabletop. "I know what a date is - I've been on a few, believe it or not. That was totally a date."
"Really?" Gerard's eyes light up and a gleeful smile starts to tug on his lips. He really, desperately wants to believe it.
Ray leans back in the booth, all solemn and wise. "Really."
Gerard chews on his lip to stop himself from smiling. He's fighting a heady excitement that's building in his chest, threatening to overpower him with glee.
"So what do I do?" he asks. Ray rolls his eyes like he can't believe Gerard could be so clueless.
"It's called dating, Gee. You go on more dates. Take him to a movie or something."
Before Gerard has a chance to ask any more pointless questions his phone starts screeching. He digs through his bag until he finds it, hitting send before he even glances at the number on the screen.
"Hello?"
"Hi, um, Gerard? This is Frank." Gerard knew it was Frank at the first word, of course, which timed exactly with when his heart started racing like a marathon runner.
"Frank, hi!" Gerard's voice is coming out way too high pitched and he's not sure how to turn down the treble. Meanwhile as soon as Ray hears the name 'Frank' he starts pointing across the table at Gerard mouthing "I told you" in an annoyingly smug fashion.
"So, I have a confession to make." Frank's saying, and Gerard's thinking he's the one who should be making confessions what with the stalking and the lying about his sibling but anyway, Frank can go first. "I totally invaded your privacy and got your number from the work computer, from when you ordered that special import. I hope you don't mind."
"Mind? No, I don't mind, that's uh... that's fine." Gerard really needs to stop talking now.
"Oh, good." He can hear the smile in Frank's voice. "So, are you free tonight?"
"Free? Tonight? Yes. I mean, yes, I'm free." Words are bursting from Gerard's mouth at will, with little to no regard for decency.
"Great. We should do something." Gerard is nodding at Frank's words even though he knows Frank can't see him. "I finish at six, you want to come by the store and we'll figure it out from there?"
"Yeah." Gerard answers, somewhat breathily. "Yeah I'd like that. I mean, I'll see you then." He's so glad that Frank can't see him because his heart is pounding, his face is burning and he knows he's gone bright red.
"Great. Um, bye." Frank says it like a deal has been sealed and Gerard barely remembers to say goodbye as well. The words are no sooner out of his mouth when Ray is laughing across the table at him,
"I told you it was a date!"
Gerard tries to shush him, but it's too late. Frank heard it all and he's laughing down the phone as Gerard hangs up, mortified.
***
Gerard loiters out the front of Skeleton Records for a solid five minutes, ensuring that when he goes inside it's exactly six o' clock. The store is darker than usual, some of the lights are switched off and Frank's nowhere to be seen.
"Frank?" Gerard calls meekly into the empty store.
"I'm just finishing up, I'll be a minute!" Frank calls from the bowels of the store, "Make yourself comfortable if you can."
Gerard sighs, relieved he's not alone, and walks down the familiar aisles. He hovers by the soundtracks rack, which stands opposite the counter. This is the spot where he first saw Frank. He remembers looking up over the rack and seeing Frank at the counter talking to a customer. He was slouched forward and leaning on his left arm while gesticulating wildly with his right. His hair was falling over one eye and one of his shirt buttons was undone. That was the beginning of Gerard's obsession with Frank. It was also the day his CD collection started growing at an exponential rate.
Gerard's mulling this over when Frank finally emerges from the back room. He's wearing a button-up work shirt, over a longsleever, jeans and Chucks. He looks so much better than Gerard's memories of him, he can't help wetting his lips at the sight.
"Hi." The word dies on Gerard's lips.
"Hey." Frank replies with a smile, taking quick steps past Gerard to the front door, flipping the sign to "closed" and locking the door. He walks back to Gerard, eyes sweeping over him from head to toe and back again. "You look good."
Gerard can feel himself getting warm already. "Thanks." he squeaks.
He actually made something of an effort tonight. He's wearing his least-wrecked skinny jeans, a clean band shirt and a leather jacket. He even got Mikey to help him put some kind of product in his hair that makes it look more groomed and less scarecrow.
Frank’s rocking back and forth on his heels, looking at Gerard like he's something he'd like to eat. "So Gerard, I just wanted to point out something. Just in case you were wondering, you know." Frank's grinning mischievously as he says this. Gerard just raises an eyebrow in acknowledgement and listens.
"This. Tonight." Frank steps closer as he speaks, "Is a date."
"Oh." Gerard breathes. Frank is standing very close now.
"Is that okay?" Frank's asking, one eyebrow arched up and a smile quirking at his lip.
"Yeah. It's uh, good. Really good." Gerard's flushed red but he's smiling very, very wide now. Frank is so close he can feel his breath on his cheeks, his eyes almost glowing in the dim room. There's nothing Gerard wants more than to kiss him again and he's thinking that if this is a date, then surely that's allowed. That thought has him leaning in and finding Frank's mouth with his own and Frank's kissing back, lips firm and soft at the same time. Frank's arms loop around Gerard's neck, pulling him closer and Gerard's hands slide around Frank's waist and soon they're necking like a pair of teenagers.
All the hesitancy of their first kiss has evaporated. Frank is devouring Gerard's mouth, his tongue licking inside and Gerard sucks on it. This yields a moan from Frank and he pulls Gerard closer, until they're stumbling backwards in a tangle of limbs, crashing into the Industrial section. Gerard hears a couple of CDs hit the ground, but he's past caring. He slides his hands up under Frank's shirt, feeling the smooth skin of his back. Frank's got one hand in Gerard's hair and the other sliding down to grip his ass, hauling him closer until their groins are pressed and it feels so good they both moan into the kiss.
It's probably getting far too heated a make-out session to be happening at Frank's place of work, but that doesn't stop him sliding a hand up Gerard's shirt, resting his palm on a racing heartbeat. Gerard hisses at the contact, arching in a way that presses his groin harder to Frank's, making them both wilt and pant at the increased sensation.
Frank locks a hand in Gerard's hair, pulling him close for another kiss. This one is slow and lingering, and he ends it by sucking on Gerard's lower lip. Gerard needs to hold on tighter to Frank to stay upright. They get caught in that moment, foreheads nearly touching, hot breath feathering between them.
"We shouldn't be doing this here." Gerard breathes, his voice throaty with desire.
"No, we really shouldn't." Frank barely gets the words out before he kisses Gerard again, long and searching and it's making Gerard's knees weak. He clings to Frank, his fingers digging into warm flesh, pressing himself against the shorter man and just feeling everything he can. They savor each other's mouths for a few more moments before Gerard gathers enough self control to break the kiss.
For a few long moments the store is silent except for their harsh breathing. Gerard can't stop staring at Frank's mouth, his lips wet and plump.
"Come on." Frank mutters, sliding his hand out from under Gerard's shirt and curling his fingers with Gerard's. "We should go... somewhere."
Gerard reluctantly steps away from Frank's warmth. "Where?"
"Wherever you like. Movie, dinner, gig - you call it." He squeezes Gerard's fingers and starts for the door, trailing Gerard behind him.
Gerard tries really hard to think of something he'd rather be doing than what he was just doing a moment ago. It's not easy.
"Can we go to your place?" He asks Frank, which makes the other man stop in his tracks and turn to Gerard. He's trying to look serious but all Gerard can see is desire.
"That's a bit forward isn't it?" Frank asks with a smirk.
"Is that a no?" Gerard smiles coyly.
"Hell no." Frank grins and heads for the door again, yanking Gerard behind him by the arm and dragging him out the door.
At this rate Gerard might actually become a fan of Whitney Houston.
end
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Rating: M
Length: 6,252 words
Disclaimer: Completely untrue and fictitious.
Warnings: Bad Language. Boy kissing. Mentions of Whitney Houston.
Summary: Gerard has a crush on the hot guy at the record store.
Author’s Notes: Written for slashxyouxup over at mcrsecretsanta - hope you like it girl! Huge thanks to gracie321 for the spectacularly fast beta. Also this is my first completed non-porny bandom fic so I hope it’s okay. *shakes nervously*. It was supposed to be a lot shorter.
Skeleton Records
"No way. That is the stupidest idea I have ever heard." It's a big call, but Gerard thinks it's a fair one. "There's no way I'm buying a fucking Whitney Houston CD from the hot guy at the record store."
"You want him to notice you right?" Ray's spinning sugar packets across the table as he talks. They're smushed into a booth at an old diner and Gerard can't keep still. He's already finished his coffee but he doesn't have enough money left to buy another one.
"Yeah, but not because he thinks I have tragic taste in music."
"Tell him it's for your sister." Ray is just not taking this seriously at all.
"Hello, Ray? I don't have fucking sister."
"He doesn't know that. Besides, put Mikey in a dress - I think he'd pass." Ray's grinning like a loon.
"Oh thanks, Toro." Gerard's voice is dripping sarcasm. Now there's a mental image he just didn't need.
The really annoying part is that Ray, to some degree, is right. Gerard can't just keep hanging around at Skeleton Records hoping Frank (well, that's the name on his lanyard) will notice him. Gerard's spent more money on CD's in the past month than he usually would in a year and he has yet to breach the two-sentence customer conversation limit with the afore-mentioned hot record store employee.
At first Gerard actually had some CD's he'd needed to buy. Then there were a few back catalogue items from favorite bands that he probably wouldn't have bought if it wasn't going to give him a reason to cross Frank's path, but whatever, it's not like he won't listen to them. Maybe it was slightly stalkerish of him to buy the Bouncing Souls without hearing them first just because Frank once wore one of their t-shirts. But buying a second copy of The Misfits American Psycho just in case his current copy gets scratched or lost is starting to push the boundaries of what even Gerard can justify as normal and reasonable behavior.
So this is how he ends up back at Skeleton the following Saturday (because Frank works Tuesday through Saturday and Gerard knows this and he knows that knowing this makes him kind of creepy but hey, whatever). He's wandering the aisles with a copy of Whitney Houston's Whitney tucked as far up under his arm as he can because he's still not sure if he can bear the thought of being seen with it.
After doing about three laps around the store and staring blankly at the racks like he's seeking divine intervention, he realizes that if he doesn't purchase something and leave soon he's really going to look like a creeper. So he trudges up to the counter, feeling a hot blush creeping up his neck before he's even placed the CD in front of the object of his fixation.
Frank's leaning over the counter, all attention focused on the staff computer. He's looking hot which is no surprise as it's his natural state. He's in his usual uniform of a band t-shirt and jeans which leaves just enough of his skin exposed that Gerard finds it infinitely distracting. Although Frank could probably be covered from head to toe in a cloak and a balaclava and Gerard would still find it distracting. Actually a balaclava might even be kind of sexy on Frank. Gerard gives himself a mental shake that shivers over his shoulders and down his torso. This is not the time to be thinking about that.
Once the CD is on the counter it takes an immense effort for Gerard to remove his hands from the case because he's intensely dreading the moment when Frank sees the cover. Despite Ray's master plan, at this point in time Gerard is hoping Frank won't notice he's purchasing an eighties R&B pop album, even though that is the point of the whole exercise.
Finally Frank's attention turns from the computer to the CD on the counter and then to the customer standing before him trying very hard not to fidget.
"That's not for you is it?" Frank asks, one of his eyebrows quirked up over those gorgeous amber green eyes that Gerard is having trouble meeting right now.
Gerard turns a deep shade of pink, muttering. "No. No it's uh... for my sister."
"Oh good." Frank smiles then and Gerard dies a little at the sight. He has a really gorgeous smile. "You usually have such good taste, it would be a bit disappointing."
Gerard manages a rather forced smile back even though he feels like his face is on fire and he's certain he's sweating now. How attractive.
"Ah. Thanks." Gerard chokes out. Wow this is going really well. What a fucking conversationalist he is. He can't keep looking at Frank, it's just messing with his concentration. He lets his gaze fall to the counter and finds himself staring absently at a flyer. And he must be hallucinating because he's even seeing Frank's face on the paper too. Hang on, that is Frank's face, along with four others and the words "Pencey Prep" emblazoned across the top.
Gerard snatches up the flyer, "Hey, is this you?" The words are out of his mouth before even registering with his brain.
Gerard looks up from the page and Frank's wearing that killer smile again, "Yep, that's my band Pencey Prep." Gerard needs a moment here because shit, the hot record store guy is in a band and that just increases the intensity of his hotness to incinerating levels.
"Cool." Gerard's grinning like a little kid with an ice cream cone.
"We're playing the Loop Lounge with Nada Surf on Thursday if you're interested. I think we'd be right up your alley."
Gerard's trying really hard to remind himself that guys who are in bands spend their entire lives pimping their gigs out to anyone who'll listen and he really shouldn't read too far into this. He can't help himself though, he's grinning wide and blushing like he just got asked to the fucking prom.
"Um. Yeah, sure I might check it out." he stammers awkwardly, clutching the flyer. Never mind his fear of crowds and mild agoraphobia. Never mind that the flyer's got the gig as being ten dollars which he wont even have after he's wasted his last fifteen on a CD he doesn't want.
A CD that Frank's now picking up off the counter and zapping with the barcode machine.
"Actually-" Gerard makes a half-hearted grab for the CD, aborting it before it really begins. "I don't think I'll take that... Mike-ah, Michelle can buy her own damn CD's."
"You sure?" Frank's still clutching the CD, eyebrows raised in question.
"Yeah." Gerard can feel his skin burning. He's trying really hard to hide behind his hair. "Don't worry about it. I'll uh.... I'll leave it." He's flapping his hand way too emphatically, so he drops it down to his side like a dead fish.
"Okay, if you're sure." Frank flips over the CD jewel case. "Actually you know it looks like the case is cracked." Gerard watches with a kind of horror as Frank pops the case open and pulls out the CD, studying the back of it. "Well look at that, there's a scratch on the disc too. It's damaged stock. I could give it to you for a discount. Say, five dollars?"
Frank's grinning at him like they're sharing a secret and Gerard just wants to melt into the floor. Something's going on and he's not sure what it is but it's making his insides tumble and turn and he just can't get his brain to work with Frank smiling at him like that.
There's something hopeful and conspiratorial in Frank's grin and suddenly there's just no question of Gerard not agreeing with whatever the fuck the cute guy wants. Before he knows it he's handing over a five with numb fingers and then presto, he's the proud owner of such hits as "I Wanna Dance With Somebody". Under normal circumstances this would be cause for alarm, but Frank's still smiling secretly at Gerard and even though it's making him tremble a little, it's just about the best thing in the entire world.
"Ah thanks. That's... uh. Thanks." Gerard is torn between wanting to soak up Frank's presence, memorize that brilliant smile and the overwhelming urge to run away very fast before he either dies of embarrassment or faints. He settles for backing away slowly. This seems to work until his back hits something solid, which turns out to be the punk section. It rattles but thankfully nothing breaks. Gerard flushes red again and gives his best attempt at a smile at a very amused looking Frank, who looks like he's trying really hard not laugh.
At that point Gerard decides to cut his losses and walk out of the store facing forwards, his expression falling into a grimace the moment he turns away from Frank. Jesus, he is just such a complete and total loser.
He's nearly to the safety of the outside of the store, completely free of further incidents when he hears Frank's voice over the piped music.
"See you at the show, yeah?"
Trying his very best for casual he throws back over his shoulder, "Yeah, see you there." But the act of turning mid-sentence throws him slightly off course and he winds up slamming his shoulder on the doorframe on his way out. It hurts a lot, but he tries really hard not to show it until he's outside the store with the door safely closed behind him. Then he jumps around and clutches his shoulder and swears. A lot.
His shoulder is hurting, he just made himself look like ten different flavors of idiot and he's clutching a flyer in his hand for a gig he's really not sure he can go to, which will cost his last ten dollars and Frank will be so busy performing he won't even see him if he does make it.
But somehow he's still smiling, because that was at least a six sentence conversation, Frank gave him a fucking discount, and said he had good taste in music. Good fucking taste.
There's just going to be no living with Ray when he hears about this.
***
Gerard is so concerned about getting to the gig on time that he ends up at the venue two hours early. Not wanting to look like an over eager groupie, he hides out at a diner across the road, scrounging together enough loose change to purchase a coffee which he nurses for at least forty-five minutes.
He tried to convince Ray to come with him, but Ray apparently has better things to do than chaperone his socially challenged friend on his not-date with the hot record store guy. Mikey just sniffed at him and to be honest Gerard was a bit relieved he didn't want to come because no matter how passable Ray thinks Mikey might be, Gerard doesn't really want to see his brother in a dress.
He glances across the street to the venue, and the doors aren't even open yet. How did he manage to get here so early? Luckily he brought a sketchbook with him. He digs it out and opens it, doodling across the page whatever shapes his hand feels like forming. He does not sketch Frank's face, or his hands, or any part of him really, because that would be creepy.
He glances up from his spiders and superheroes from time to time to check on the venue. Eventually the doors open, but Gerard doesn't even consider getting up to leave until he sees a steady flow of people crossing the threshold.
When he does get inside the venue, it's dark and loud and stinks of stale beer. He hands over his last ten dollars in exchange for a stamp on his wrist. He's flat broke now, not even enough money for a soft drink, so he finds a dark corner to loiter in and waits for the gig to start.
Pencey Prep are up first, playing support, so they barely get a lukewarm reaction when they take the stage. It doesn't seem to phase the band, though, and they deliver an enthusiastic, if slightly loose set. The best part is that Gerard can stare at Frank all he likes and not have to worry about looking weird. Frank looks damn hot on stage too, belting out lyrics into the mic and handling his guitar with a slightly pinched look of concentration.
Gerard claps and even hollers a bit when they wind up their set. Hot guy or no hot guy, they were actually pretty good. The venue packed out a little fatter as they were playing so the response is warmer now and Frank's smiling down at the crowd as he thanks them. He's shiny with sweat and flushed from standing under the hot lights and Gerard is a little bit in love.
When Frank leaves the stage, carrying his own gear, Gerard's private perv-fest is over and his throat's feeling scratchy from all the yelling, so he heads for the bar. The bartender openly glares when he asks for a glass of water, but what does Gerard care? It's not like he's a regular who needs to make friends with the bar staff.
He's wondering if maybe it's time for him to slip away, since there won't be anymore Frank action on stage, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns, wondering if maybe he's being asked to leave since he has no intention of spending any money over the bar. It's not a bouncer, it's Frank, and he's smiling that heart-stopping smile at Gerard. Words are out of reach at this point.
"So you made it?" Frank is asking.
"Ah... yeah. Well. Yeah." Gerard tries to smile but it feels more like a baring of teeth. He feels warm, flushed and a bit jittery. "Good, um... performance up there."
"Thanks." Frank smiles again and signals the bartender with a wave of his hand, asking for a beer. The bartender hands one to Frank and then recommences glaring at Gerard.
"Another water?" He scowls. Gerard just smiles meekly and waves his hand over his empty glass.
"No thanks, I'm good."
"You're drinking water?" Frank makes it sound like an abomination of the highest degree. Gerard winces internally but fights out an answer.
"I uh... forgot my money. Starving student, you know?" Somehow he winds up doing jazz hands as he says this. It's certainly not intentional.
Frank chuckles and rolls his eyes. He then calls the bartender (who's turned the scowl level up to eleven by this point) back over, and orders another beer which he hands to Gerard.
"Thanks." Gerard takes the beer reverently, knowing he's grinning too hard. He reminds himself it's an alcoholic beverage not a posy of flowers, but he's pretty pleased just the same.
Frank chinks his bottle to Gerard's and takes a swig. Gerard follows suit, taking a long swallow as he rapidly chases thoughts around his head trying to think of something to say to Frank. He needs to keep some conversation going because he's not ready to lose Frank's presence just yet.
His half-baked conversation topics turn out to be entirely unnecessary. Before he has a chance to get a word out, two heavily pierced and tattooed guys appear out of the darkness and start talking at Frank. Gerard appears to be invisible to them, possibly due to his lack of needle-induced body art. He hovers nearby for a little while, but when it becomes obvious they're not leaving anytime soon he drifts further down the bar and away from their cosy little threesome.
Gerard slumps back against the bar and sighs, taking another swallow of his beer. Well, it was fun while it lasted. He'll finish his drink and call Mikey to come and get him. It was pretty naive of him to expect much more than a quick "thanks for coming" conversation from Frank anyway. He really is out of Gerard's league.
He's swirling the last of his beer in the bottle, watching the bubbles rise when he feels someone slide in beside him, leaning against the bar.
"Sorry dude, rabid fans, you know?" Gerard looks up at Frank and very nearly spits his beer. He forces himself to swallow what's left in his mouth and coughs a little before saying,
"No, that's fine. Bet that happens all the time, yeah?" Gerard is very proud of himself for getting the words out without dying. Internally he's got a pretty intense mix of excitement/panic going on because holy shit, Frank came back. Frank is still talking to him. He's not quite sure how to handle this yet.
Frank's smothering a chuckle into his shirtsleeve. "Oh yeah, I'm such a rockstar. I can barely sleep for the screaming. We must have oh... seven fans now?" He glances up at Gerard with a quirked eyebrow and it's the first time Gerard notices he's not all confidence. His mouth is twisted at the side in a self deprecating smirk and his eyes are unsure.
"Well make it eight now." Gerard smiles shyly. "You guys were pretty good."
"Thanks." The thousand-watt smile Gerard gets from Frank is so worth it.
Frank still doesn't leave. This is simply amazing to Gerard. He keeps waiting for it to happen, steeling himself for it, but it doesn't. They talk about music and Frank buys another round but most importantly he doesn't politely end the conversation and walk off.
When Nada Surf take the stage Frank wraps his fingers around Gerard's wrist and drags him into the mosh pit and even though every part of Gerard's brain is screaming get out, he doesn't even panic. Frank doesn't stop until they're right down in front and Gerard is smushed up against Frank's back, and somehow this is okay. Gerard can handle being packed in with the strange bodies, because he's pushed up against Frank, with Frank's belt-studs pressing into his hips and his nose full of Frank's hair that smells like cigarettes and sweat and a deep underneath that's something flowery.
It's even better than okay. Especially the times when Frank turns around and grabs Gerard's head to yell something into his ear over the gig roar. Most of the time Gerard can't even understand what he's saying, but it doesn't matter. Frank's head is so close it's brushing his and the feel of Frank's fingers pressing into Gerard's skin is sending heat zings down his back and it's all good. It's all so fucking good.
As far as Gerard is concerned, the gig could go on for hours, days.
Sadly it has to finish sometime, so after screaming for an encore and getting two more songs, the lights go up and Gerard has to peel his body from Frank's and try to be at peace with the knowledge that this is going to end now. Frank's going to say goodnight or "see you around" and then Gerard will have to find some more CD's to buy if he wants to see him again. Maybe he could sell some of his own and then replace them with new copies.
Except Frank's not saying goodnight, he's handing him another beer and introducing him to a couple of the guys from Nada Surf. They all chat for a while and Gerard even manages to make a few contributions to the conversation and it's strangely not weird that Gerard is there, with these band guys. Gerard, the strange art student who's not good with people is actually drinking and talking and laughing with these guys and holy shit he seems to even be enjoying himself. It has to be Frank, he figures. Something about Frank is making this work, though he's not sure what and he's not sure if he wants to think about it too much because it just makes him want Frank around on a permanent basis and that's entirely out of the question.
When the Nada Surf guys need to make tracks, Frank and Gerard help them lug their gear out. Then it's just the two of them again and Gerard is amazed that they haven't run out of things to talk about yet. When Frank orders another round and the bartender openly glares at them, Gerard glances around, finally noticing the venue is nearly empty. It must be late. He glances at his watch.
"Jesus, it's 2am!"
"You gotta be somewhere?" Frank's asking as he hands Gerard a final beer. That unsure look is back, crinkling Frank's brow as he chews his lip.
"No, no." Gerard's words come out in a rush. "It's just... late, you know?" Then Gerard remembers, muttering under his breath. "Fuck, Mikey's going to kill me."
"Mikey?" Frank's asking, brow now double creased and he actually looks concerned.
"My brother." The words are out before Gerard has a chance to think of the consequences. He winces internally and hopes like hell that Frank doesn't notice and think it's weird that he supposedly has a brother named Michael and a sister named Michelle. It doesn't seem to click immediately though, Frank's only response is a visible loosening of his limbs, and his brow unfurrows.
"I hope he's still up, he's my ride home." Gerard starts scrabbling in his various pockets for his phone. "It's weird he hasn't called...." Finally he finds it, pulling it out to see the screen displaying three missed calls. "Oh. He did." There are also two text messages, the second one stating categorically and with the use of several colorful words that Gerard can find his own way home tonight, thank you very much, and something about the importance of sleep.
Gerard starts running through his options, since he is now broke and stranded. Calling Ray is top of the list and hitchhiking is also a possibility, but before he gets to option three Frank cuts in.
"Do you need a ride home?"
Gerard snaps out of his internal debate and looks at Frank. Gorgeous, hot, plays-in-a-band, works-in-a-record-store Frank, who is offering Gerard a ride home. Maybe it's the beer but it feels like the world just slowed down a little and somehow in the last three seconds Gerard wound up in the wrong life. Somehow he ended up with the life where a hot guy is offering him a lift home and that is so incredibly far from his personal normal he can barely comprehend it.
"Um. Yeah?" He's so unsure his answer comes out as a question.
"Come on then."
Then he's trailing Frank backstage, Frank's throwing cables around his neck and handing him a guitar to carry while he lugs an amp out to the parking lot. They load up Frank's ancient silver-blue station wagon with gear before climbing in themselves, then they're on the road and Gerard is directing Frank to his place.
The street is quiet and deserted when they pull up outside the Way household. The windows are all dim. Gerard looks back from the house to Frank in the driver's seat.
"Thanks for the ride." For some reason being in the close proximity of the car with Frank has brought all of Gerard's nerves rushing back.
"No problem dude. Thanks for coming out." Frank got his killer smile on and Gerard's heart is racing. He's far from drunk but the alcohol in his bloodstream is making his brain click over with thoughts of things he'd like to do to Frank, things that are beyond what friends would do and it's making his skin prickle and flush and he really, really needs to get out of the car now.
He struggles with the door release but it wont budge.
"Sorry, you're trapped. The catch is broken." Frank's giving him a sly smile. Gerard's thinking maybe being trapped in a car with Frank isn't such a bad thing if he's going to keep looking at him like that, when Frank reaches for his own door handle saying, "I'll let you out."
Gerard holds very still and watches Frank open the driver door and get out. He rounds the front of the car to stand outside Gerard's door and gives it a solid thump with his hip before reaching for the handle and cracking the door open. It gives with a groan and Gerard starts to get out but is caught tight across his chest with the seatbelt he's still wearing. Damn it. Hoping Frank didn't notice, he quickly releases the catch, disentangles himself and climbs out.
Frank's holding the car door open like some kind of punk valet, the streetlight painting a halo around his head. Gerard's breath catches a little because he looks so damned good. He's not sure what to say but he feels like he should say something so he tries,
"Thanks for letting me know about the gig. I had a good night." He's having trouble meeting Frank's eyes and the whole thing is feeling a little bit like a date all of a sudden and Gerard reminds himself very solidly that it is not. He's lucky Frank took pity on him and gave him a ride and he really needs to stop behaving like a teenager. This is most certainly not a date.
"And thanks for the ride." he adds, peering out from behind his hair at Frank and maybe he's imagining it but Frank is looking almost as nervous as he is which makes no sense at all to Gerard, because what does Frank have to be nervous about?
Except Frank is looking nervous, and he's sidling closer to Gerard and Gerard is barely able to breathe because Frank's not stopping when he hits Gerard's personal space. He's leaning in closer, until Gerard can feel his body heat and see every detail of his eyelashes which are falling closed as he tilts his head up and presses his lips to Gerard's.
Gerard is so shocked he doesn't kiss back at first. He's too busy flipping out because oh my god, Frank is kissing him, what the hell? How is this even possible? His stillness isn't stopping Frank though, he's slipping a hand up the back of Gerard's neck and into his hair. Gerard comes back to himself, eyes fluttering shut, lips falling soft beneath Frank's, kissing back and it's so good he could melt.
He can feel himself flushing with heat and an embarrassing noise escapes his lips. Frank takes advantage of his open mouth and gives him tongue and Gerard likes it so much it's mortifying. Frank's got one hand locked in Gerard's hair, the other is gripping his hip and the kiss is slow and exploratory and just searingly hot. Gerard's still got both hands by his sides so he raises one and it flutters like a spastic bird for a moment before resting lightly on Frank's chest. He slips his tongue out to delicately stroke Frank's and is rewarded with a low growl from Frank which curls his toes and sends heat to his groin.
It could go on forever as far as Gerard is concerned, but Frank starts to slow things down, the kiss gets lazy and Frank's fingers start to slip from Gerard's hair. When Frank breaks the kiss and studies Gerard's face, Gerard knows he's flushed and his eyes are glazed and bright. Frank is wearing a satisfied grin and his eyes are sparkling.
"Goodnight," is all he says before he turns and ambles back to the car, leaving Gerard standing on the sidewalk, burning up and confused as hell. He walks up to his house in a daze, licking his lips like he can still taste Frank on them, trying to convince himself that actually happened.
***
"So he bought you drinks, talked to you all night, introduced you to his friends, drove you home and kissed you goodnight?" Ray ticks each item off on his fingers as he lists them. Gerard nods along miserably.
"Dude - that was a date." Ray states.
"Don't mess with me Ray. This is serious." Gerard's run his hands through his hair so often now it's sticking out all around his head like a lion's mane. "I can't start thinking I've got a chance with this guy if I don't."
"Gerard." Ray leans forward, placing his hands on the battered diner tabletop. "I know what a date is - I've been on a few, believe it or not. That was totally a date."
"Really?" Gerard's eyes light up and a gleeful smile starts to tug on his lips. He really, desperately wants to believe it.
Ray leans back in the booth, all solemn and wise. "Really."
Gerard chews on his lip to stop himself from smiling. He's fighting a heady excitement that's building in his chest, threatening to overpower him with glee.
"So what do I do?" he asks. Ray rolls his eyes like he can't believe Gerard could be so clueless.
"It's called dating, Gee. You go on more dates. Take him to a movie or something."
Before Gerard has a chance to ask any more pointless questions his phone starts screeching. He digs through his bag until he finds it, hitting send before he even glances at the number on the screen.
"Hello?"
"Hi, um, Gerard? This is Frank." Gerard knew it was Frank at the first word, of course, which timed exactly with when his heart started racing like a marathon runner.
"Frank, hi!" Gerard's voice is coming out way too high pitched and he's not sure how to turn down the treble. Meanwhile as soon as Ray hears the name 'Frank' he starts pointing across the table at Gerard mouthing "I told you" in an annoyingly smug fashion.
"So, I have a confession to make." Frank's saying, and Gerard's thinking he's the one who should be making confessions what with the stalking and the lying about his sibling but anyway, Frank can go first. "I totally invaded your privacy and got your number from the work computer, from when you ordered that special import. I hope you don't mind."
"Mind? No, I don't mind, that's uh... that's fine." Gerard really needs to stop talking now.
"Oh, good." He can hear the smile in Frank's voice. "So, are you free tonight?"
"Free? Tonight? Yes. I mean, yes, I'm free." Words are bursting from Gerard's mouth at will, with little to no regard for decency.
"Great. We should do something." Gerard is nodding at Frank's words even though he knows Frank can't see him. "I finish at six, you want to come by the store and we'll figure it out from there?"
"Yeah." Gerard answers, somewhat breathily. "Yeah I'd like that. I mean, I'll see you then." He's so glad that Frank can't see him because his heart is pounding, his face is burning and he knows he's gone bright red.
"Great. Um, bye." Frank says it like a deal has been sealed and Gerard barely remembers to say goodbye as well. The words are no sooner out of his mouth when Ray is laughing across the table at him,
"I told you it was a date!"
Gerard tries to shush him, but it's too late. Frank heard it all and he's laughing down the phone as Gerard hangs up, mortified.
***
Gerard loiters out the front of Skeleton Records for a solid five minutes, ensuring that when he goes inside it's exactly six o' clock. The store is darker than usual, some of the lights are switched off and Frank's nowhere to be seen.
"Frank?" Gerard calls meekly into the empty store.
"I'm just finishing up, I'll be a minute!" Frank calls from the bowels of the store, "Make yourself comfortable if you can."
Gerard sighs, relieved he's not alone, and walks down the familiar aisles. He hovers by the soundtracks rack, which stands opposite the counter. This is the spot where he first saw Frank. He remembers looking up over the rack and seeing Frank at the counter talking to a customer. He was slouched forward and leaning on his left arm while gesticulating wildly with his right. His hair was falling over one eye and one of his shirt buttons was undone. That was the beginning of Gerard's obsession with Frank. It was also the day his CD collection started growing at an exponential rate.
Gerard's mulling this over when Frank finally emerges from the back room. He's wearing a button-up work shirt, over a longsleever, jeans and Chucks. He looks so much better than Gerard's memories of him, he can't help wetting his lips at the sight.
"Hi." The word dies on Gerard's lips.
"Hey." Frank replies with a smile, taking quick steps past Gerard to the front door, flipping the sign to "closed" and locking the door. He walks back to Gerard, eyes sweeping over him from head to toe and back again. "You look good."
Gerard can feel himself getting warm already. "Thanks." he squeaks.
He actually made something of an effort tonight. He's wearing his least-wrecked skinny jeans, a clean band shirt and a leather jacket. He even got Mikey to help him put some kind of product in his hair that makes it look more groomed and less scarecrow.
Frank’s rocking back and forth on his heels, looking at Gerard like he's something he'd like to eat. "So Gerard, I just wanted to point out something. Just in case you were wondering, you know." Frank's grinning mischievously as he says this. Gerard just raises an eyebrow in acknowledgement and listens.
"This. Tonight." Frank steps closer as he speaks, "Is a date."
"Oh." Gerard breathes. Frank is standing very close now.
"Is that okay?" Frank's asking, one eyebrow arched up and a smile quirking at his lip.
"Yeah. It's uh, good. Really good." Gerard's flushed red but he's smiling very, very wide now. Frank is so close he can feel his breath on his cheeks, his eyes almost glowing in the dim room. There's nothing Gerard wants more than to kiss him again and he's thinking that if this is a date, then surely that's allowed. That thought has him leaning in and finding Frank's mouth with his own and Frank's kissing back, lips firm and soft at the same time. Frank's arms loop around Gerard's neck, pulling him closer and Gerard's hands slide around Frank's waist and soon they're necking like a pair of teenagers.
All the hesitancy of their first kiss has evaporated. Frank is devouring Gerard's mouth, his tongue licking inside and Gerard sucks on it. This yields a moan from Frank and he pulls Gerard closer, until they're stumbling backwards in a tangle of limbs, crashing into the Industrial section. Gerard hears a couple of CDs hit the ground, but he's past caring. He slides his hands up under Frank's shirt, feeling the smooth skin of his back. Frank's got one hand in Gerard's hair and the other sliding down to grip his ass, hauling him closer until their groins are pressed and it feels so good they both moan into the kiss.
It's probably getting far too heated a make-out session to be happening at Frank's place of work, but that doesn't stop him sliding a hand up Gerard's shirt, resting his palm on a racing heartbeat. Gerard hisses at the contact, arching in a way that presses his groin harder to Frank's, making them both wilt and pant at the increased sensation.
Frank locks a hand in Gerard's hair, pulling him close for another kiss. This one is slow and lingering, and he ends it by sucking on Gerard's lower lip. Gerard needs to hold on tighter to Frank to stay upright. They get caught in that moment, foreheads nearly touching, hot breath feathering between them.
"We shouldn't be doing this here." Gerard breathes, his voice throaty with desire.
"No, we really shouldn't." Frank barely gets the words out before he kisses Gerard again, long and searching and it's making Gerard's knees weak. He clings to Frank, his fingers digging into warm flesh, pressing himself against the shorter man and just feeling everything he can. They savor each other's mouths for a few more moments before Gerard gathers enough self control to break the kiss.
For a few long moments the store is silent except for their harsh breathing. Gerard can't stop staring at Frank's mouth, his lips wet and plump.
"Come on." Frank mutters, sliding his hand out from under Gerard's shirt and curling his fingers with Gerard's. "We should go... somewhere."
Gerard reluctantly steps away from Frank's warmth. "Where?"
"Wherever you like. Movie, dinner, gig - you call it." He squeezes Gerard's fingers and starts for the door, trailing Gerard behind him.
Gerard tries really hard to think of something he'd rather be doing than what he was just doing a moment ago. It's not easy.
"Can we go to your place?" He asks Frank, which makes the other man stop in his tracks and turn to Gerard. He's trying to look serious but all Gerard can see is desire.
"That's a bit forward isn't it?" Frank asks with a smirk.
"Is that a no?" Gerard smiles coyly.
"Hell no." Frank grins and heads for the door again, yanking Gerard behind him by the arm and dragging him out the door.
At this rate Gerard might actually become a fan of Whitney Houston.
end