His Personal (Lover) Assistant
Because Rehearsal Wedding's Are For Getting Drunk
“Two champagnes please,” I said to the bartender. He nodded, and walked over to pour them, whilst I turned around to face Gerard.
“Starting out light?” he arched an eyebrow.
“Can’t be too drunk not to give the Best Man’s speech,” I shrugged, grinning. He grinned back, and grabbed our champagne from the tray the bartender held out, handing me mine, and clinking glasses.
“Cheers.” He nodded, and his caramel eyes catching in the light, and twinkling. I smiled, and brought my glass to my lips, nodding. There was silence for a minute, the classical music in the restaurant that my dad and his fiancé had reserved for the night – playing overhead.
“Frank! Dinner’s being served in ten!” Ainsley hissed.
“Why do we have to be so prompt?” I whined. “It’s only just the rehearsal dinner.” I noticed my dad shooting a glare my way as I started whining, and I offered and apologetic grin, before grabbing Gerard’s arm, and tugging him over to the table, following Ainsley’s lead.
“You’re gonna make me spill this!” Gerard mumbled.
“Get more after dinner. Just act all coupl-y, so my dad doesn’t complain that I brought a ‘mutual friend’ and I’m not committed enough to have a real relationship, and I should be more like Bob and Ray.” Gerard snorted, and nodded, wrapping his hand around mine.
I bit my lip, avoiding this, and continued walking to the table. Finally, we reached it, and my dad’s gaze fell to our hands that were entwined. He smiled. “Frank, have you got to introduce someone to me?”
“Right.” I said, firmly, still avoiding how clammy my hands were getting, as Gerard lightly squeezed. “This is Gerard, dad. Gerard, my step-dad, Greg.”
“Nice to finally meet you sir,” Gerard says, finally removing his hand from mine, and grasping my dad’s in a handshake. “Frank’s told me so much about you.” Dad looked surprised, but nodded.
“I’m surprised. He’s not one to open up about his life. A reason he’s stayed single for so long.” He laughed. “Have you met Marilyn yet, Frank?”
“No.” I replied nonchalantly. He smiled, and touched his shoulder to a graceful looking blonde who sat on his right. She looked up, and he gestured towards me and Gerard. Her red lips curled into a smile, and she stood up.
“You must be the infamous Frankie!” She exclaimed, wrapping her arms around me. I let her hug me for a second, nodding.
“I guess there’s no other Frankie Dad’s mentioned.” I said, and nodded. “You must be Marilyn. Between Dad and Ainsley, I’ve heard a sh—“ I was cut off my dad shooting me a warning glare. “I mean, crap load of stuff about you.” Dad nodded, relaxing.
Marilyn smiled. “Really? That’s so wonderful. Greg just admires you, like a real son.” I blushed, and smiled, nodding.
“He is my son,” Dad intervened, and I grinned like a fucking Cheshire cat.
“And he’s my father. It was lovely meeting you Marilyn, I can’t wait to talk more. My date and I should really get to our supper though.” She nodded and hugged me once more, before sitting back down with my father.
Dad sent me a grateful look, before turning back to his conversation. I smiled, and curled my fingers back round Gerard’s. He looked at me, confused, and I just rolled my eyes, mouthing, ‘put on a show.’
I obviously just really like it, for some stupid reason.
He rolled his eyes in return, and we sat down to eat.
….Two hours later, we were both so drunk. Open bars do that. I stumbled off the dance floor where my dad and Marilyn were both happily dancing, and giggled hysterically as Gerard tripped. He started laughing as well, and Ainsley, Mikey, my dad, and Marilyn rolled their eyes and grinned at our stupidity.
“C’mon,” I slurred, pulling his hand and stumbling towards the bathrooms.
“Where ish we goinsh?” he mumbled, following, and paying close attention to the floor. I just giggle again, and push the bathroom door open, locking it as we enter. He laughs as I attack his neck, but it slowly turns into a moan.
I unbutton his shirt quickly, and start kissing his chest feverishly, and then started to attack his neck once more, leaving a decent sized bruise just under his collar. He moans again, and threads his fingers through my hair. “F-Frankie!”
“We won’t remember,” I slur, kissing his lips sloppily. “Come on baby,” and I pull him down to the ground, tearing his jeans off, as he sloppily undresses me, tossing the clothes aside into the unknown. He moans as I thrust into him, to drunk to feel pain.
Because yes,weddings rehearsal wedding’s are for getting drunk.
“Starting out light?” he arched an eyebrow.
“Can’t be too drunk not to give the Best Man’s speech,” I shrugged, grinning. He grinned back, and grabbed our champagne from the tray the bartender held out, handing me mine, and clinking glasses.
“Cheers.” He nodded, and his caramel eyes catching in the light, and twinkling. I smiled, and brought my glass to my lips, nodding. There was silence for a minute, the classical music in the restaurant that my dad and his fiancé had reserved for the night – playing overhead.
“Frank! Dinner’s being served in ten!” Ainsley hissed.
“Why do we have to be so prompt?” I whined. “It’s only just the rehearsal dinner.” I noticed my dad shooting a glare my way as I started whining, and I offered and apologetic grin, before grabbing Gerard’s arm, and tugging him over to the table, following Ainsley’s lead.
“You’re gonna make me spill this!” Gerard mumbled.
“Get more after dinner. Just act all coupl-y, so my dad doesn’t complain that I brought a ‘mutual friend’ and I’m not committed enough to have a real relationship, and I should be more like Bob and Ray.” Gerard snorted, and nodded, wrapping his hand around mine.
I bit my lip, avoiding this, and continued walking to the table. Finally, we reached it, and my dad’s gaze fell to our hands that were entwined. He smiled. “Frank, have you got to introduce someone to me?”
“Right.” I said, firmly, still avoiding how clammy my hands were getting, as Gerard lightly squeezed. “This is Gerard, dad. Gerard, my step-dad, Greg.”
“Nice to finally meet you sir,” Gerard says, finally removing his hand from mine, and grasping my dad’s in a handshake. “Frank’s told me so much about you.” Dad looked surprised, but nodded.
“I’m surprised. He’s not one to open up about his life. A reason he’s stayed single for so long.” He laughed. “Have you met Marilyn yet, Frank?”
“No.” I replied nonchalantly. He smiled, and touched his shoulder to a graceful looking blonde who sat on his right. She looked up, and he gestured towards me and Gerard. Her red lips curled into a smile, and she stood up.
“You must be the infamous Frankie!” She exclaimed, wrapping her arms around me. I let her hug me for a second, nodding.
“I guess there’s no other Frankie Dad’s mentioned.” I said, and nodded. “You must be Marilyn. Between Dad and Ainsley, I’ve heard a sh—“ I was cut off my dad shooting me a warning glare. “I mean, crap load of stuff about you.” Dad nodded, relaxing.
Marilyn smiled. “Really? That’s so wonderful. Greg just admires you, like a real son.” I blushed, and smiled, nodding.
“He is my son,” Dad intervened, and I grinned like a fucking Cheshire cat.
“And he’s my father. It was lovely meeting you Marilyn, I can’t wait to talk more. My date and I should really get to our supper though.” She nodded and hugged me once more, before sitting back down with my father.
Dad sent me a grateful look, before turning back to his conversation. I smiled, and curled my fingers back round Gerard’s. He looked at me, confused, and I just rolled my eyes, mouthing, ‘put on a show.’
I obviously just really like it, for some stupid reason.
He rolled his eyes in return, and we sat down to eat.
….Two hours later, we were both so drunk. Open bars do that. I stumbled off the dance floor where my dad and Marilyn were both happily dancing, and giggled hysterically as Gerard tripped. He started laughing as well, and Ainsley, Mikey, my dad, and Marilyn rolled their eyes and grinned at our stupidity.
“C’mon,” I slurred, pulling his hand and stumbling towards the bathrooms.
“Where ish we goinsh?” he mumbled, following, and paying close attention to the floor. I just giggle again, and push the bathroom door open, locking it as we enter. He laughs as I attack his neck, but it slowly turns into a moan.
I unbutton his shirt quickly, and start kissing his chest feverishly, and then started to attack his neck once more, leaving a decent sized bruise just under his collar. He moans again, and threads his fingers through my hair. “F-Frankie!”
“We won’t remember,” I slur, kissing his lips sloppily. “Come on baby,” and I pull him down to the ground, tearing his jeans off, as he sloppily undresses me, tossing the clothes aside into the unknown. He moans as I thrust into him, to drunk to feel pain.
Because yes,weddings rehearsal wedding’s are for getting drunk.