Inseparable
IV
Kellin wakes up with cramps in places he doesn’t think you should be able to get cramps. Mostly in his legs and neck, because that bathtub is not at all large enough to hold his entire body comfortably.
He pushes himself out of the stupid thing and walks back into Frank’s room.
Frank, of course, is cuddled into his pillow, sleeping deeply and soundly, duct tape patched over the broken window and the glass dumped in the trash bin beside aforementioned widow.
He glances at the clock on Frank’s bedside table. Fuck, they’re late for school! Oh well, they’re ditching now, whether Frank wants to or not.
Kellin decides that Frank needs to wake the fuck up. Slowly, a devious smile creeps onto Kellin’s face. He stands on Frank’s bed, his feet just below Frank’s.
He starts jumping, and shouting a chorus of “Frankie Frankie Frankie Frankie” until Frank finally gains consciousness enough to the point he leans forward just enough yank Kellin’s leg out from under him, causing him to topple next to (and slightly on to) Frank.
“We’re late for school,” Kellin says as he pokes Frank’s cheek. Frank swats away Kellin’s hand and lazily opens an eye.
“I take it we’re ditching?” Frank asks, already anticipating Kellin’s answer by his happy, hyperactive mood.
“Yuppers. So what do you want to do today Frank?” He asks. Frank shrugs beneath the blanket and shifts over onto his back.
“How about I tell ya a little story?” Frank says, stretching and then putting his arms behind his head.
“Tell me the story, oh wise Frankie,” Kellin says, folding his hands under his chin, laying on his stomach.
“Once upon a time, last night, not long after you decided you were a big baby and went to sleep in the bathtub, a very attractive boy walked into this very room.”
Kellin raises his eyebrows. “Did you call a hooker? Frankie, seriously, people like them have so many fucking diseases their dicks are green and their assholes-”
Frank cuts Kellin off with a smack to the head with his pillow. “No dumbass, he was in one of the gangs that were shooting at each other last night. He came in to see if anyone got hurt. Now are you gonna let me tell the rest of the story?”
“Wait wait wait! Lemme guess! You sucked his face off?” Kellin says.
A blush rises in Frank’s cheeks, and he sputters for a moment before whacking Kellin with the pillow once more.
Kellin chuckles. “You’re such a whore, Frank. But I find this mystery boy really intriguing. We should track him down.”
At that, Frank laughs. “Dude, he’s in a gang. He is most likely an expert at not letting people find him. It was just a kiss, and all together finding him is a pointless cause, really.”
Now it’s Kellin’s turn to smack Frank with a pillow. “Don’t be such a hopeless romantic! My psychic powers are telling me that this boy is going to be a lot more than ‘just a kiss’ if me and my psychic powers have anything to say about it! Now get your scrawny butt out of bed and prepare to be psychic-power-ified! Also, I’m going to eat all your Pop-Tarts,” Kellin shouts, adding the Pop-Tarts as an afterthought as he jumps up out of bed, flying across the room and out the door. His footsteps resound as the pounds down the staircase.
Frank grins at Kellin’s hyperactive-ness. He drags himself out of bed and locates a clean pair of boxers before pulling back on the clothes he had fallen asleep in (he was too lazy to put on pajamas, so he just fell asleep in the t-shirt and jeans he’d been wearing during the day) and walks downstairs to find Kellin sitting on the counter swinging his legs, munching on a Pop-Tart.
“How the hell are you so perky? You slept in a goddamn bathtub like fucking Ke$ha, and yet here you are, all happy and sparkly like a unicorn humping a rainbow.”
Kellin shrugs and continues to eat his Pop-Tart. “There was a gang fight and a gang member kissed my friend plus POTENTIAL DEAD BODIES and puppies are a thing and I don’t really know, I’m just happy.”
Frank smiles and grabs a box of cereal and sits on the counter next to Kellin, plunging his hands into the box and shoving the cereal messily into his mouth.
“I suppose that’s a legit reason,” He says through a mouthful of Fruit Loops. “We should make the best of your mood though.”
“How so?” Kellin asks, grabbing another Pop-Tart.
“Well, I thought that we should go to the mall or something and play a little game I like to call, ‘How-Quick-Can-We-Get-Kicked-Out-Of-Every-Store’,” Frank says, taking the box of Fruit Loops and pouring some in to Kellin’s outstretched hand.
Kellin nods in agreement and dumps the Fruit Loops into his mouth. “But if we get arrested or some shit, I’ve never met you and my name is Carlos.”
“Sounds good, Carlos. Now let’s go!”
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Once the duo arrive at the mall, they discuss which stores they want to target first.
“I vote Bath and Body Works,” Kellin says. Frank grins, a plan bouncing around and forming in his head.
“Okay. Let’s do this shit,” He agrees, racing ahead of Kellin and skipping steps up the escalator.
The smell of the store can suffocate, it reeks of various sugary and flowery scents, causing Frank to pull his shirt over his nose and groan. “Ugh, it smells like girl in here.”
Kellin chuckles, inhaling deeply, then proceeding to have a cough attack.
“Dear Jesus. This place smells like my mom before she goes out on a first date. Like, she fucking dumps bottle after bottle of this shit all over her,” Kellin chokes out, in between coughs.
“Ready to get our asses kicked out of this hellhole?” Frank asks.
“You bet your ass,” Kellin replies, all too eager to get the hell out.
Frank gins at Kellin before calmly walking over to the body wash section of the store. He begins to act as though he were a shopper, picking up a bottle of something that had to do with more flowers and shit and casually opening the cap, inhaling.
It smells absolutely disgusting. Frank decides he likes the thick, musky scent that men had attached to them much, much much better. But of course, this revelation doesn’t exactly surprise him. Frank knows that he’s gay as hell, and that anything that smells like a girl is automatically gross.
But putting that aside, his current goal is to get kicked out of this flowery deathtrap.
Shifting a quick look behind his shoulder at the cashier, then to Kellin (who is currently scrutinizing the wall of lotions) Frank undoes the lid of the body wash.
Checking once more to make sure he isn’t being watched, he takes off his jacket, and then slowly as discreetly as he possibly can in his current location, Frank removes his shirt.
Quickly, he smears the body wash into a shitty pentagram on his chest, then proceeding to draw an equally shitty pagan symbol (that he doesn’t exactly remember the name of, he just remembers seeing it in a textbook once) on a poster to his left, dropping to his knees and shouting in the little Latin he knows.
Frank is suddenly being pulled to his feet by two security guards, his clothing being practically thrown at him. Managing to catch Kellin’s eye, Frank sends him a huge grin.
“Hail Satan! He shall save your souls from the purging of God!” Frank shouts as he’s being dragged out of the store, biting down laughter when Kellin gives him the best ‘what-the-everlasting-fuck’ look Frank’s ever seen.
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Miraculously, Frank doesn’t get kicked out of the mall, and he isn’t arrested. Frank makes the excuse (a very poor one, but somehow the obese and slightly ignorant mall cop accepts it) that he had had a lot of emotional trauma in his childhood, and that particular body wash had triggered some painful memory.
He was released with a warning, astoundingly.
In the meantime, Kellin has successfully been asked to leave (not removed by force like Frank, the flamboyant little fuck) by hitting on the cashier.
Okay, so maybe he flat out told the cashier she had nice tits.
Yes, it’s a cruel and douchebaggy move, but the point of the game is to get kicked out.
Looking back on it, he probably should have done something different. Unfortunately, it’s too late to do anything now.
Kellin sits on a bench in the food court, waiting for Frank. When Frank finally appears, he’s got a shit eating grin on his face.
“Mission accomplished?” Frank asks Kellin, sitting across from him.
“Indeed,” Kellin replies.
“What’d you do? Frank asks.
Kellin grins. “I told the cashier she had nice tits. She didn’t like that too much, so she told me to leave. I did. I’m not a little fuck of a showoff, unlike you. Fucker.”
Frank can’t fight off a grin this time. “What? Hey, the whole point of the game is to get kicked out. I got kicked out. Shall we continue the game?”
Kellin looks at the digital clock above the food court.
“First, I want food. Then we shall,” Kellin says, standing up and heading over to the Panda Express kiosk, Frank following after him.
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“And so to find the value of x you divide four by itself and then go to the other side of the equal sign...”
Gerard’s math teacher drones on and on and on, and honestly Gerard no longer has any desire to hear about these damned equations, he wants to fucking ditch.
Usually, Gerard is the one talking the boys into staying at school. This time though, he’s the one talking them in to leaving.
“Guys,” Gerard whines, drawing out the u and y, “I wanna leeeeeeaaaaave.”
Andy shakes his head. “Gee, we’ve already missed a fuckload of school this semester, we are this close to landing our asses in prison. And you know that if they arrest us for one thing they’ll find out about the rest.”
Gerard makes a puppy face. “Oli, tell him he’s an inconsiderate fuckwad and we should ditch.”
Oli looks up at Gerard and stops poking his fork at the goop the cafeteria has tried to pass as chicken and rice, giving Gerard a huge grin. Oli turns to Andy and calmly states, “You are an inconsiderate fuckwad and we should ditch.”
“I second that,” Vic says.
Gerard’s grin rivals Oli’s. “You hear that Andy? The vote is three to one. We’re ditching.”
Andy sighs and drops his head to the table with a painful thunk.
“Firstly, ow. Second, you all are bent on getting us turned into someone's prison bitch. You cannot fathom the amount of idiocy that you all possess. Let’s go before someone notices we’re gone.”
After a (quiet) cheer of victory, the boys exit the school grounds as discreetly as possible and pile into Andy’s truck.
“So where to?” Andy asks over the combined roar of the music blaring through the speakers and the engine.
“Mall! I want something that can actually be classified as food!” Oli shouts in reply.
“Sounds good to me.” Andy says. They pull out of the school parking lot and on to the highway.
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“And Jesus said, ‘Let there be Chinese food’,” Kellin says through a mouthful of fried rice.
“I agree,” Frank says as he leans over the table a little bit and stabs a piece of Kellin’s chicken with his fork.
“Hey!” Kellin pouts. Frank simply sends him a devilish smile and proceeds to steal another piece of chicken, laughing when Kellin keeps pouting and flips him off.
“So which store shall be our next victim?” Kellin asks, standing slightly and reaching over the table to steal some of Frank’s food.
Frank gasps, pretending to be offended, dropping the act before responding.
“I think... Victoria’s Secret,” Frank says.
Kellin breaks out in a huge smile. “I’ve got a plan. Finish your food so we can get this show on the road, because trust me. This is a genius plan.”
Frank raises an eyebrow skeptically, but speeds up his eating nonetheless. His curiosity over Kellin’s plan is killing him.
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After a death-defying drive (and way too much road rage from Andy), the four boys pile out of the car and enter the mall.
“Food. Now,” Oli says, running towards the nearest escalator. Gerard keeps his eye on Oli, but turns to Andy and Vic.
“I know you two wanna go to Hot Topic, so I’ll hang out with Oli and you two can go fuck around,” Gerard says. Andy pats Gerard on the shoulder.
“Thank you man. Only you have the patience to deal with Oli when he’s hungry.”
Gerard smiles, gives a two finger mock-salute and dashes after Oli, running up the escalator two at a time to attempt to catch up with him.
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Receiving multiple dirty and disgusted looks from both the employees and customers, Kellin and Frank calmly enter Victoria’s Secret.
“Follow my lead,” Kellin whispers to Frank, continuing on into the store when he gets a nod in response.
Kellin walks over to the weird ass bin things that all the underwear is in and pulls up a small, lacey black thong.
“What do you think honey? Would I look good in this?” Kellin asks, holding the thin piece of material up.
“Hmm,” Frank says. He shoots Kellin a smirk before taking the thong and holding it against the front of Kellin’s pants.
“You would look delicious, darling,” Frank said, making sure that the people in the store can hear him.
Kellin is poorly suppressing a huge grin, trying his very best to look serious. “Would you like me to model it for you?”
“Yes, yes I would,” Frank says, failing himself to keep down a smile.
The pair walk in the direction of the changing rooms, holding hands, until an employee steps in front of them.
“I’m sorry sirs, but we’re going to have to ask you to leave,” She says, looking them up and down with a look is undoubtedly disgust.
Frank wraps an arm around Kellin’s waist and feigns offense. “Well don’t expect either myself or my beautiful boyfriend to ever shop here again!”
They fake anger as they march out of the store, Kellin shooting the thong like a rubber band at the employee who had so politely kicked them out and Frank raising a hand with his middle finger high as they leave.
They choke down giggles as they leave the store, and as soon as they’re a good fifty or so feet away, they collapse in laughter, leaning against the other like they can hold each other up. Which they can’t, because their entire bodies are shaking with the force of their laughter.
“That was the best idea ever! Oh god Kells, I can’t feel my sides dear Jesus!” Frank laughs.
“Did you see her fucking face? ‘Sirs, I’m going to have to ask you to leave because I’m jealous that your dick game is better than mine’. Her face! Her face!” Kellin mocks the employee, raising his already high pitched voice impossibly higher, causing Frank’s sides to burst with pain from the increase in laughter.
Once they get their breathing back down to a regular rate (or at least semi-regular) they walk back over to the food court, which has become their impromptu home base, collapsing with a flourish, still breathing heavily.
“We deserve an Oscar for that. That was some top-notch acting right there,” Kellin says. Frank nods in agreement.
“So what’s next?” Frank asks, scouring the food kiosks for something he can eat relatively quickly, finally noticing he’s a little hungry, since he skipped lunch and all.
“More food,” Kellin says loudly, standing up abruptly and practically running over to the Baskin Robin’s kiosk.
Frank shakes his head and follows his friend, figuring that ice cream is as good a lunch as anything else in this damn food court.
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Oli glances up from his plate of food at the two boys doubled over in laughter about twenty feet away from himself and Gerard. He’s tempted to shout at them to shut the hell up, but he thinks better of it and shovels more food in his mouth.
“Jesus Oli, slow down, you’re going to choke to death,” Gerard says with a smile. Oli promptly raises his middle finger and continues to practically inhale his food. Gerard simply smiles at his friend’s antics, letting his gaze drift around the pretty damn full food court.
His gaze lands on a boy with short black hair appears to be following a taller boy to the Baskin Robins kiosk, and abruptly, Gerard is thrown into the memories of last night. This boy does look a lot similar to the one he met last night, but he won’t ever know for sure, not unless he gets up and talks to the boy.
Which is never going to happen, by the way. Gerard had had a hard enough time warming up to Oli, Andy and Vic, and taking up the initiative to go talk to someone on his own is fucking terrifying.
Pushing his anxiety back down to an acceptable rate, Gerard shifts his attention smoothly back to Oli, who’s scooping his food onto his fork, only to set it back down again. Something is most definitely wrong.
“Hey Oli, you okay?” Gerard asks, tilting his head, following Oli’s gaze with his own eyes, trying to find where it is that Oli is staring.
“Yeah... Just...Last night... do you think any of those people we killed were in love?”
Gerard is taken aback, but nonetheless rolls his eyes. “Oli, you shouldn’t worry about that stuff, okay? If they were in love they would have either gotten out of the gang or made sure their partner was aware of the risks. Don’t feel bad, alright? It’s over now, it’s beyond our control.”
Oli nods. “Yeah, you’re right. Did the guys go to Hot Topic?” He asks, changing the subject as he continues to eat the rest of his food.
“Yup. I won’t be surprised if Andy blows his whole life savings in that damned store,” Gerard chuckles. Oli makes a noise in response and Gerard lets the conversation drop.
His gaze drifts once more to the boy he’d seen earlier, who’s leaning against the counter while his friend either places an order or flirts with the employee.
Gerard squints, trying to pull up the mental image of the boy from last night and compare it to the face of the boy he’s looking at right now.
He feels his pulse rise again, but not from anxiety this time.
This time, it’s from excitement.
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The music is loud, as always, the employees stare at the customers like if they look at them hard enough they’ll drop dead, and Andy is staring up in awe at a wall of band shirts, like every other time the pair ventured into Hot Topic.
Vic, however, is enjoying the music more than anything else around him. Well, a tiny bit more than the look of awe plastered on Andy’s face. That’s always pretty amusing.
“Hey man, can I help you with anything?” An employee asks. He’s got a piercing by his eye (a little unusual, but nonetheless cool) and his ears are stretched to oblivion. Vic internally winces at how much it must have hurt to do that.
“Nah,” Vic says, “I’m just waiting for my friend do get over his bandgasm and buy a goddamned shirt.”
The employee laughs. “Bandgasm. Haven’t heard that one before, and that’s saying something. I’m Tony,” He says, offering his hand for a shake.
“I’m Vic,” He responds, accepting the handshake.
“Nice to meet you.”
For the next hour or so, Vic leans against the counter and talks to Tony while Andy continues to stare at all the shirts like a child at Christmas. They have some pretty good conversations, and after a bit Vic starts feels like he can trust this guy. He doesn’t seem like a potential ‘member’, probably just a good friend or connection, but Vic’s always looking for those. One of his mottos is “look for low friends in high places.”
When Tony brings up the subject (as a topic that stems off of shoplifting) of the bodies that the police recovered from a gang fight, Vic can feel himself visibly tensing.
And even though they’ve just met, Tony’s giving Vic nearly every reason to trust him.
With a deep breath, Vic decides to take the chance.
“Promise you won’t freak out if I tell you a secret?” Vic asks, lowering his voice so that the people around him would have to want to listen to hear the conversation. He feels his heart pounding against his ribcage, and he keeps mentally hitting himself because he knows that if this goes wrong Andy will not hesitate to lodge a bullet in his skull, and Tony’s. And so far, Tony hasn’t done anything wrong.
“Sure,” Tony says. Vic takes another deep breath and calmly says words he’s never really said before.
“I’m in a gang. One of the gangs that was in that fight, the winning gang, if you will,” Vic says in a rush, watching Tony’s face for any signs of panic.
For a second, Tony’s pupils dilate in shock, but then they shrink back down to normal size. Tony grins.
“Promise you won’t freak out if I tell you a secret too?” He asks, repeating Vic’s own words.
“Promise,” Vic responds.
“I’m a drug dealer. Second biggest dealer in the county,” Tony admits.
Vic collapses against the counter.
“Oh thank God because I was afraid you were gonna call the police and land my stupid ass in prison,” Vic says.
“I would only do that if I felt like getting caught too. And since the income is pretty good, I think not,” Tony laughs.
“So why do you have a job here then?” Vic asks. He knows a lot of the basic prices for drugs, and depending on how much you’re selling, the job pays pretty damn well, making it all worth the risk, which runs rather high.
“I can’t just help my mom pay bills with magic money that appears out of nowhere. I gotta at least have a job that she knows about somewhere so she doesn’t start to suspect I’m stealing or something.”
At that, Vic laughs.
“Oh yeah, God forbid that you stole money. Drug dealing is a much more honest way of earning cash.”
Tony can’t help but laugh as well. “Hey, at least I don’t do the shit I sell. Then I would be as fucked up as most of my customers and boy, would I be in some trouble.”
Vic nods in agreement. “Clean and selling is better than being a junkie and using more shit than you’re selling.”
“Exactly my philosophy. Besides, it would break my mom’s heart enough to hear that I sell drugs, it would totally crush her to find out I was doing them as well. Might as well let her rest a little better at night.”
“Hey dude, be glad your mom even cares. I’d fucking kill for a set of parents that gave a fuck about what I do. Hell, I’d fucking kill for a set of parents in general. You’re lucky as fuck,” Vic says.
“And I am thankful for my mom. She cares, and I’m sorry to hear that your parents don’t. I’m sure that if my mom met you she’d adopt you on the spot. Anybody she can cook for,” Tony jokes.
While Andy continues to fondle shirts, the pair exchange stories about their time on the wrong side of the tracks, and as it turns out, Tony had once been mixed up in a gang. He just barely managed to get out, handing over a large portion of his drugs to the leader and all of the cash he was carrying on his person, which turns out to be quite a lot.
“I still don’t know why they let me off that easy. One girl, Erica, had to have the living shit beat out of her to get out. Scary as fuck, man, and I was sure they were gonna do that to me.”
Vic lets out a low whistle. “I don’t really think our gang is big enough to get people kicked out, ya know? There’s only four of us that do the actual dirty work, the rest are just connections.”
“Holy shit, that’s small. How do you guys manage to make such a big name for yourselves? And don’t be shocked, of course I’ve fucking heard of you guys. Jewelry store last Monday. One of my customers co-owns the place.” Tony says in response to the look on Vic’s face, which is an amusing mixture of shock and confusion.
“Tactics, I guess. Andy, that fucker over there, makes sure everyone can shoot a gun well, we plan on getting caught, we keep low profiles, and we don’t do stupid flamboyant shit... It’s not that complicated. We don’t purposely start stuff.”
Tony nods. “That is pretty smart. The gang I was in before was all about the attention. They did some really dumb stuff that nearly got us caught on a weekly basis.”
“Well hey, if you ever need some company and an adrenaline rush, you can always hang out with us. Not saying you have to do anything, you can if you want, but if you ever want company that is more entertaining than those scene queens, we’re always available,” Vic proposes, a little on the spot, but from what he’s learned so far, Tony appears to be pretty cool, and pretty reliable.
Tony seems to ponder the rather spontaneous offer for a moment, before responding. “Fuck it. Hell yeah. So do you guys have an initiation or some shit? The gang I was in did, and if I have to do some shit like that again, I’m out.”
“Don’t worry, there’s not really anything you have to do. Making sure Andy likes you is enough,” Vic says, gesturing to his friend.
“Ah. I see. He’s one of those Alpha-Wolf types isn’t he?” Tony asks, eyes tearing apart every fraction of Andy’s appearance, searching for details about his personality and life from what’s visible.
Vic chuckles. “You have no idea. I think there’s only one person on this planet that can talk him into things, and that would be Oli, who is currently eating the entire food court.”
Tony grins. “I’m always up for a challenge. I refuse to believe he’s more difficult than some of my customers. Those people can bitch and complain about anything and everything, and it’s only until you remind them that you have possession of the substance that owns their soul that they drop to their knees and start begging.”
“I like that description,” Vic muses. “Anyway,” He continues, “When Andy finishes having a fangirl attack, you should clock out or whatever and hang out with us. You’re cool and the universe can get boring.”
“Sure thing. All these scene kids make me want to shoot myself after a while anyway,” Tony replies, sending a look that could kill to a girl with her back turned to them that has majorly over-teased blonde and rainbow hair paired with a neon Hello Kitty clip and kandi bracelets up and down her arms.
It’s right around then that Andy walks up to the register, three shirts in hand, a look of pure excitement on his face.
While Tony is ringing him up, Vic decides the best approach to this would to be extremely blunt and perhaps throw a small sense of humor in there.
“Hey Andy, ask Tony for some heroin,” Vic says, leaning against the counter so he’s got a full view of Andy and Tony’s faces.
Tony grins widely, while Andy looks at Vic like he’s lost his mind. Cautiously, he turns to Tony.
“You got any heroin?” He asks, looking at Vic with the most questioning look Vic thinks has ever seen, or that anyone’s ever given him.
“Yeah, but I can’t give it to you here. You gotta give me a blowjob first, then we’ll talk prices,” Tony pretends, feigning complete seriousness, finally cracking and laughing as the look of shock and confusion heightens on Andy’s face.
“Victor Fuentes, what in the hell?” Andy demands, tucking his wallet back into his jeans.
“Well, Tony here is a drug dealer. He’s pretty cool, if I do say so myself, and I think he’d be a nice addition to our little group, if you catch my drift. Don’t worry, he just sells, doesn’t do the shit. Opinion?” Vic proposes.
Andy looks at Tony for a second, then to Vic, then back to Tony, before nodding. “Not everyone is brave enough to make a blowjob-for-drugs joke. Welcome to our little group. Try not to get yourself killed.”
Tony grins, says his thanks and assures that he’ll do his best to stay alive, before shouting at another employee that he’s leaving and hopping over the counter.
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Kellin is being indecisive as fuck and it’s visibly pushing Frank’s tolerance. Instead of picking a flavor of ice cream, Kellin’s just fliting shamelessly with the cashier. Eventually, Frank heaves a sigh and elbows his friend in the ribs, causing Kellin to throw his hand over his side and bit his lip to keep from groaning in pain. Frank smiles at the cashier and orders for themselves, deciding that Kellin won’t be ordering anytime soon.
“My friend will have cookie dough, small, bowl please, and I’ll take a small vanilla cone,” Frank says. Kellin scrunches up his face up and glares at Frank.
“Meanie,” He mutters under his breath, just loud enough for Frank to hear.
“Put a lid on it,” Frank bites back.
Once they have their ice cream, they go and sit back down. Frank shakes his head at Kellin.
“What is it with you and your need to flirt with everything that looks at you?” He asks. Kellin simply shrugs and spooned some ice cream into his mouth.
“I don’t flirt with everything that looks at me. In my defense, they usually look first. Then I flirt.”
Frank rolls his eyes.
“If I paid you money, would you flirt with a dude?” It’s a relatively innocent question, and Frank is merely curious at the extent of his friend’s flirtatious ways.
“Hell, you don’t need to pay me for that. I’d gladly do it for free,” Kellin says, now scoping out the food court for a suitable target.
Frank laughs. “Dude, I was joking. You don’t have to.”
“Fine, take away all my fun,” Kellin says dismally, pouting a little and returning his attention to his ice cream.
Abruptly, Frank feels funny. It only lasts for a second, but he knows that he’s being watched. As always, he refuses to make eye contact and/or look around for whoever’s watching him. Over the years, he has managed to perfect the talent of telling when someone’s watching him, drawing experience from all the times that he’s seen various adults watch him when he was on the swing set at the children’s park down the road from his house, earbuds jammed in his ears, drowning out the world and the cheers of the little children, lost in the motion of the swing.
“Dude. Blond boy, two tables behind us and to my right, staring at you like you’re a Greek god,” Kellin says, flicking his glance up once, twice, and then shifting it back quickly to Frank.
Frank’s heart speeds up minutely. He doesn’t think it’s possible, not really. The chances of the person staring at him now being the same boy from last night were low, so very, very low... but he’s got this tiny spark of hope...
“Give me a basic description,” Frank says.
“Okay... Um, taller than you by the looks of it, but that’s not much of an accomplishment, his hair is bleached so much it’s practically white, hazel eyes I think, I can’t really tell from here, he’s pale as fuck... Why, ring a bell?” Kellin asks.
“Yeah.... he sounds a lot like the boy from last night...” Frank says, his hopes increasingly climbing upward.
“Dude, really? Seriously?” Kellin questions Frank, doubting Frank only a tiny bit.
Frank nods. “I’m...I’m pretty sure, you know, considering all I’m going off of right now is your description.”
Kellin grins. “So what are we gonna do to get his attention?”
Frank shrugs. “I honestly don’t know. Maybe it’d just be easier if we let him be.”
Somehow, Kellin’s grin gets even wider.
“Oh, we’re going to talk to him. But don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ve got a plan.”
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While they make their way to the food court, Andy and Vic give Tony the best run-down that they can of what to expect with Gerard and Oli. They’ve never really had to do this before, so everything is rather impromptu.
“Oli can be quick with his anger, especially if you hurt someone he cares about. Like a while back somebody called Gerard a faggot and it took all three of us to stop Oli before he killed the guy. He’s better with a knife than a gun, but likes using a gun because it works faster. Also, he tends to get really pissy and whiny when he’s hungry. That’s about it for Oli... Andy? Wanna tell him about Gerard?” Vic says, dropping his end of the conversation and indicating that Andy should pick it up and continue on.
“Gerard is extremely shy and has pretty bad anxiety. It takes him a really long time to warm up to people, to have trust in them. He’s the same as Oli, he’ll kill you without a second thought if you mess with someone he cares about. One of his only faults is that he cares a little too much about pedestrians being caught in the crossfire, and he’s always checking to make sure nobody that isn’t gang-associated got hurt. The kid can kill you with one shot, unless he feels like making you suffer first, in which case, he’s fucking ruthless,” Andy concludes.
Tony nods. “I can handle that. A lot less violent than the larger portion of my clients. I nearly had to get one of my friends who’s in an underground street fighting club thing to hold the worst of them off.”
“People are nuts, man, they’ll do anything to get their hands on whatever they think they can’t live without,” Vic says, shaking his head.
“That is all too true,” Tony agrees.
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“HEY YOU! BLONDIE!” Kellin shouts across the food court, standing on his chair. Frank stands up a little and smacks Kellin on the arm, as if that can get him to sit down and stop yelling, and after his attempt proves to be in vain, he slinks back down into his own chair.
“This was your plan?” Frank asks, sliding a hand down his face in exasperation.
“Shut up, this plan is brilliant,” Kellin says, looking down at Frank before he resumes yelling at the boy. “YEAH YOU. I’M TALKING TO YOU, DAMMIT. C’MERE,” Kellin shouts, earning the pair dirty looks.
A girl with dark blue hair shouts back at Kellin. “SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH. I WANT TO EAT IN PEACE.”
Kellin calmly responds with a middle finger in her direction, while Gerard and his friend stand (or at least Frank hopes it’s Gerard, otherwise things are about to get really, unnecessarily awkward), a look on Gerard’s face that could be classified as something between hostility and curiosity, the look on his friend’s face pure, unadulterated aggression.
Frank can hear his heartbeat pound in his ears as Gerard comes closer, and there’s no doubt about it that this is him.
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Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy motherfucking shit.
He’s actually seeing Frank again. Gerard had hoped that he would, but he knew that the probability was drastically low and that he more than likely wouldn’t come into contact with Frank again. Now, now he has, there Frank is, lip ring and all, smiling shyly while shooting a death glare at the boy still standing on his chair.
He feels Oli put a hand on his shoulder. “Stay with me, Gee,” Oli mutters, leaning in close to Gerard’s ear.
Frank’s friend hops off of his chair and steals two more from another table nearby. He sets them down next to the ones that he and Frank were already seated at, still standing, leaning in and muttering something to Frank.
“Alright, give me one reason not to shoot you right now,” Oli growls, pushing his finger into Kellin’s chest.
“Ooh, demanding. Me likey. You wanna take this somewhere more private big boy?” Kellin says, biting his lip and making obvious bedroom eyes at Oli.
“Kellin, sit your whore ass down and stop flirting with every-fucking-body. I apologize for my friend’s stupid face. You can, ah, sit down, if you want?” Frank says, reaching across the table to yank Kellin’s wrist and pull him into his chair.
Gerard smiles, a very small, very nervous smile, and Frank thinks it’s adorable.
“It’s alright. C’mon Oli, sit down, resist the urge to strangle him. Please,” Gerard says, tacking on the ‘please’ as a hopeful bartering chip. Oli huffs and then reluctantly sits down in the chair next to Kellin, Gerard taking the one next to Frank.
“Fancy meeting you here, in a fucking food court of all places,” Frank says, turning to Gerard and giving him a little smile of his own.
“Yeah,” Gerard says, just barely above a whisper. Frank notices that Gerard’s hands are a little on the shaky side and that his eyes are darting around the room, and Frank can’t help but wonder if he’s got some sort of anxiety disorder, but his theories are interrupted by Kellin speaking again.
Oli has kept glowering at Kellin, who’s eating the rest of his ice cream, minding his own business for the most part and occasionally looking up at Oli.
“Okay, Blondie, get your friend to stop giving me death glares. I’m just trying to eat my goddamn ice cream and he just keeps looking at me like he either wants kinky sex or to slit my throat, and right now I’m not really up for either,” Kellin says. Gerard chuckles.
“You can stop calling me blondie, by the way. My name is Gerard. And Oli, seriously, he did me a huge favor. Stop it.”
Oli mutters something inaudible and shoots Kellin one last glare before falling silent.
It’s not very long before all four boys are absorbed in conversation, ranging from the teachers they hate the most (upon discovery that they go to the same school) to the best way to talk a llama into eating ham (what can Kellin say, Napoleon Dynamite made him laugh really hard).
Gerard visibly tenses when three other boys approach them. Oli takes note of his friend’s suddenly tensed posture and turns his head around slightly, and when his gaze finds the trio approaching them, he grins.
Kellin looks at Frank, trying to communicate with his eyes and various facial expressions ‘I am both terrified of approaching cute boy and approaching cute boy holy motherfucking shit.’
Frank just smiles and shakes his head. When Gerard turns to face the oncoming entourage, his back now turned to Frank, he wiggles a pen free from his pocket and hurriedly scribbles his number down on a napkin, much to Kellin’s silent pleasure.
“Gee, Oli, we gotta go, okay?” The tall one with blue eyes says. “And uh... You... tall-lanky-skinny-girl-thing...Stop eye fucking my friend, okay, it’s really weird when we’re in a public space.”
“Huh?” Kellin says, tearing his gaze away from the tanned boy in front of him. He sighs heavily. “I guess I will, but only because you have pretty eyes.”
Once more Frank has to apologize for Kellin’s antics. The boys accept the apology, the boy with the blue eyes waving it off with a hand gesture. Gerard and Oli stand, and Frank asks Gerard for a quick hug, slipping the napkin with his number on it into Gee’s jacket pocket as discreetly as he can.
When they pull apart, Gerard gives him a wave goodbye in a smile, and Kellin grabs Frank and gives him a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek.
“I’m so proud of you! Look at you, gonna get that dick!” Kellin says.
“Shut up Kellin,” Frank bites back, wiping at his cheek.
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“I feel like that was a day productively wasted. You know, if that makes sense,” Frank says as they exit the mall, about half an hour after they had parted ways with the other boys.
“I agree completely. Never have I ever had so much fun in my life,” Kellin replies, grinning at the memory of the adventure in Victoria’s Secret. That was probably one of the most brilliant plans ever concocted.
“And what are the chances that Gerard was going to be there? Next to none, right? I’m telling you Kells, the universe is trying to get us together.”
“That, and his Mexican friend is really fucking hot,” Kellin says.
“Seriously, where did this sudden desire to fuck everything on two legs come from?” Frank says, turning to Kellin and giving him the most questioning look he can manage.
“Since I slept in the bathtub like Ke$ha. It’s like my spirit connected with her and suddenly I wanted to fuck everything.”
Frank reaches up and smacks Kellin upside the head, hopefully removing that shit-eating grin. It didn’t, if anything, the smack amplified it.
Kellin laughs and breaks into a run.
The pair races around the corner, Frank close behind Kellin and shouting things ranging from “that’s right, you better run motherfucker” to “do you lose feeling in your dick running in those jeans?”
Frank lives a walking distance from the mall, so they wind up racing back to Frank’s house.
Once they get inside, the collapse on the couch in laughter, Frank gaining just enough energy to shift over and smack Kellin again.
“But still, he was really cute,” Kellin says.
“Get some sleep, you delusional fucker,” Frank replies, pulling Kellin up from the couch and pushing him in the direction of the bedroom, knowing full well that attempting to sleep in bathtubs tended to not work at all.
“Only if you cuddle with me,” Kellin says with a pout.
Frank rolls his eyes so hard he thinks he pops a blood vessel. “Fine,” He relents. “But only for a little while.”
“Yay!” Kellin chirps, and Frank kind of wonders why he ever wanted to be friends with this weirdo in the first place.
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The ride back in Andy’s truck lacks music this time. It’s been replaced with conversation, questions and stories being exchanged between the four other boys and Tony.
When Gerard sticks his hands in his pockets, they’re met with the roughish texture of a napkin. Curiously, he pulls it out and reads the scrawled message.
Dammit, his pulse is doing the uppy thing again. He seriously needs to either stop letting things get to him or get some fucking anxiety medication or some shit. This shit is tiring.
“It’s just a series of numbers, Gee, get a fucking grip,” He whispers to himself. Nonetheless, he can’t help but have to suppress a girlish squeal of excitement. God, he’s borderline pathetic.
“Is that his number?” Oli whispers, nudging Gerard’s leg with his own. Gerard nods and smiles.
“You two would be cute together,” Vic throws in. Damn him and his excellent hearing.
“Who?” Andy asks, glancing back at his friends in the rearview mirror.
“Gerard and that short kid with the lip ring from the mall,” Oli replies. Gerard’s face turns a slight shade of pink, and he smacks Oli’s arm. Andy laughs.
“Oh hell yeah. Gee, you should give him a call, set up a date.”
“Andy... You know how this could turn out. If things go well...Too well... it could end up like you and Juliet,” Gerard says quietly, looking at his hands and rubbing the corner of the napkin between his fingers.
Andy tenses at that, his knuckles going white on the steering wheel.
“Yeah, okay. I get it. Still though, give him a call, you never know. It might be worth the risk.”
Gerard nods in agreement, putting the napkin back in his pocket. Tony shoots him a grin and a thumbs up, and Gerard replies with an equally silent small, hesitant smile.
Maybe Tony isn’t so bad. It’s not like Gerard doubts him, he’s just naturally nervous that Tony’s going to be loud and cocky and not anywhere near understanding. But if Vic likes him... Well... He can’t be that bad at all.
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“Did you hear that Frankie? She waited for him,” Kellin says, shoving more popcorn into his mouth and talking around the mouthful. They’ve decided to watch some shitty romance movies, curled up on the couch, making fun of the stereotypical plotlines and shooting suction cup Nerf darts at the screen whenever the couple kissed.
“Ew ew ew ew!” Frank shouts as he peppers the screen with foam darts.
“Get a life you fucking whore!” Kellin yells as he throws popcorn at the screen.
The sounds of people sucking face are abruptly drowned out by a loud metal guitar solo, and Frank swears.
“Fuck,” Frank says, fishing around in his pocket before he pulls out his phone, making a confused face. “I don’t recognize this number... should I answer it?”
Kellin pauses the TV and nods eagerly. “It could be Gerard, answer it!”
Frank takes a few deep breaths and accepts the call.
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Gerard hopes that Frank will hurry and pick up before Gerard passes out. He is so nervous, so fucking ridiculously nervous.
“Deep breaths, you fuck,” Gerard mutters to himself. “It’s a phone call, just a phone call.”
He releases a breath that he didn’t know he was holding when Frank answers with an equally nervous tone.
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Three hours later, they have a date set up for a week from then at a quiet little café on the other side of town. When Frank finally gets off the phone, Kellin attacks him with questions.
“WHEN HOW WHERE ANSWER ME IERO!” He shouts all at once.
Frank laughs. “Calm down, Mr. Lonely. We’re going to a coffee shop on the other side of town a week from now.”
Despite his best efforts to remain calm, Kellin throws popcorn at Frank.
“You little shit, now you’re gonna be with him all the time and leave me all alone with crappy movies and a quart of ice cream,” He sniffles. “You don’t love me do you?”
Frank rolls his eyes and launches himself at Kellin, tackling him in a bear hug.
“I love you, you fucking bathtub sleeping whore. I promise I won’t be ditching you just because I get some dude to make out with. If we’re lucky, we can find you a dude. Or a chick. Whatever lifts your skirt.”
“I want that Mexican boy to lift my skirt.”
“Will you stop that and turn the movie back on?”
Kellin sighs heavily. “I guess.”
And the room is consumed once again in noise, the yells of teenage boys protesting romance movies and the smell of popcorn reaching the ceiling and filling the room to the brim and beyond.
Kellin won’t be alone, Frank won’t leave him, ever.
For once in his life, Kellin can trust someone not to leave him.
He quite likes this feeling.
He pushes himself out of the stupid thing and walks back into Frank’s room.
Frank, of course, is cuddled into his pillow, sleeping deeply and soundly, duct tape patched over the broken window and the glass dumped in the trash bin beside aforementioned widow.
He glances at the clock on Frank’s bedside table. Fuck, they’re late for school! Oh well, they’re ditching now, whether Frank wants to or not.
Kellin decides that Frank needs to wake the fuck up. Slowly, a devious smile creeps onto Kellin’s face. He stands on Frank’s bed, his feet just below Frank’s.
He starts jumping, and shouting a chorus of “Frankie Frankie Frankie Frankie” until Frank finally gains consciousness enough to the point he leans forward just enough yank Kellin’s leg out from under him, causing him to topple next to (and slightly on to) Frank.
“We’re late for school,” Kellin says as he pokes Frank’s cheek. Frank swats away Kellin’s hand and lazily opens an eye.
“I take it we’re ditching?” Frank asks, already anticipating Kellin’s answer by his happy, hyperactive mood.
“Yuppers. So what do you want to do today Frank?” He asks. Frank shrugs beneath the blanket and shifts over onto his back.
“How about I tell ya a little story?” Frank says, stretching and then putting his arms behind his head.
“Tell me the story, oh wise Frankie,” Kellin says, folding his hands under his chin, laying on his stomach.
“Once upon a time, last night, not long after you decided you were a big baby and went to sleep in the bathtub, a very attractive boy walked into this very room.”
Kellin raises his eyebrows. “Did you call a hooker? Frankie, seriously, people like them have so many fucking diseases their dicks are green and their assholes-”
Frank cuts Kellin off with a smack to the head with his pillow. “No dumbass, he was in one of the gangs that were shooting at each other last night. He came in to see if anyone got hurt. Now are you gonna let me tell the rest of the story?”
“Wait wait wait! Lemme guess! You sucked his face off?” Kellin says.
A blush rises in Frank’s cheeks, and he sputters for a moment before whacking Kellin with the pillow once more.
Kellin chuckles. “You’re such a whore, Frank. But I find this mystery boy really intriguing. We should track him down.”
At that, Frank laughs. “Dude, he’s in a gang. He is most likely an expert at not letting people find him. It was just a kiss, and all together finding him is a pointless cause, really.”
Now it’s Kellin’s turn to smack Frank with a pillow. “Don’t be such a hopeless romantic! My psychic powers are telling me that this boy is going to be a lot more than ‘just a kiss’ if me and my psychic powers have anything to say about it! Now get your scrawny butt out of bed and prepare to be psychic-power-ified! Also, I’m going to eat all your Pop-Tarts,” Kellin shouts, adding the Pop-Tarts as an afterthought as he jumps up out of bed, flying across the room and out the door. His footsteps resound as the pounds down the staircase.
Frank grins at Kellin’s hyperactive-ness. He drags himself out of bed and locates a clean pair of boxers before pulling back on the clothes he had fallen asleep in (he was too lazy to put on pajamas, so he just fell asleep in the t-shirt and jeans he’d been wearing during the day) and walks downstairs to find Kellin sitting on the counter swinging his legs, munching on a Pop-Tart.
“How the hell are you so perky? You slept in a goddamn bathtub like fucking Ke$ha, and yet here you are, all happy and sparkly like a unicorn humping a rainbow.”
Kellin shrugs and continues to eat his Pop-Tart. “There was a gang fight and a gang member kissed my friend plus POTENTIAL DEAD BODIES and puppies are a thing and I don’t really know, I’m just happy.”
Frank smiles and grabs a box of cereal and sits on the counter next to Kellin, plunging his hands into the box and shoving the cereal messily into his mouth.
“I suppose that’s a legit reason,” He says through a mouthful of Fruit Loops. “We should make the best of your mood though.”
“How so?” Kellin asks, grabbing another Pop-Tart.
“Well, I thought that we should go to the mall or something and play a little game I like to call, ‘How-Quick-Can-We-Get-Kicked-Out-Of-Every-Store’,” Frank says, taking the box of Fruit Loops and pouring some in to Kellin’s outstretched hand.
Kellin nods in agreement and dumps the Fruit Loops into his mouth. “But if we get arrested or some shit, I’ve never met you and my name is Carlos.”
“Sounds good, Carlos. Now let’s go!”
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Once the duo arrive at the mall, they discuss which stores they want to target first.
“I vote Bath and Body Works,” Kellin says. Frank grins, a plan bouncing around and forming in his head.
“Okay. Let’s do this shit,” He agrees, racing ahead of Kellin and skipping steps up the escalator.
The smell of the store can suffocate, it reeks of various sugary and flowery scents, causing Frank to pull his shirt over his nose and groan. “Ugh, it smells like girl in here.”
Kellin chuckles, inhaling deeply, then proceeding to have a cough attack.
“Dear Jesus. This place smells like my mom before she goes out on a first date. Like, she fucking dumps bottle after bottle of this shit all over her,” Kellin chokes out, in between coughs.
“Ready to get our asses kicked out of this hellhole?” Frank asks.
“You bet your ass,” Kellin replies, all too eager to get the hell out.
Frank gins at Kellin before calmly walking over to the body wash section of the store. He begins to act as though he were a shopper, picking up a bottle of something that had to do with more flowers and shit and casually opening the cap, inhaling.
It smells absolutely disgusting. Frank decides he likes the thick, musky scent that men had attached to them much, much much better. But of course, this revelation doesn’t exactly surprise him. Frank knows that he’s gay as hell, and that anything that smells like a girl is automatically gross.
But putting that aside, his current goal is to get kicked out of this flowery deathtrap.
Shifting a quick look behind his shoulder at the cashier, then to Kellin (who is currently scrutinizing the wall of lotions) Frank undoes the lid of the body wash.
Checking once more to make sure he isn’t being watched, he takes off his jacket, and then slowly as discreetly as he possibly can in his current location, Frank removes his shirt.
Quickly, he smears the body wash into a shitty pentagram on his chest, then proceeding to draw an equally shitty pagan symbol (that he doesn’t exactly remember the name of, he just remembers seeing it in a textbook once) on a poster to his left, dropping to his knees and shouting in the little Latin he knows.
Frank is suddenly being pulled to his feet by two security guards, his clothing being practically thrown at him. Managing to catch Kellin’s eye, Frank sends him a huge grin.
“Hail Satan! He shall save your souls from the purging of God!” Frank shouts as he’s being dragged out of the store, biting down laughter when Kellin gives him the best ‘what-the-everlasting-fuck’ look Frank’s ever seen.
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Miraculously, Frank doesn’t get kicked out of the mall, and he isn’t arrested. Frank makes the excuse (a very poor one, but somehow the obese and slightly ignorant mall cop accepts it) that he had had a lot of emotional trauma in his childhood, and that particular body wash had triggered some painful memory.
He was released with a warning, astoundingly.
In the meantime, Kellin has successfully been asked to leave (not removed by force like Frank, the flamboyant little fuck) by hitting on the cashier.
Okay, so maybe he flat out told the cashier she had nice tits.
Yes, it’s a cruel and douchebaggy move, but the point of the game is to get kicked out.
Looking back on it, he probably should have done something different. Unfortunately, it’s too late to do anything now.
Kellin sits on a bench in the food court, waiting for Frank. When Frank finally appears, he’s got a shit eating grin on his face.
“Mission accomplished?” Frank asks Kellin, sitting across from him.
“Indeed,” Kellin replies.
“What’d you do? Frank asks.
Kellin grins. “I told the cashier she had nice tits. She didn’t like that too much, so she told me to leave. I did. I’m not a little fuck of a showoff, unlike you. Fucker.”
Frank can’t fight off a grin this time. “What? Hey, the whole point of the game is to get kicked out. I got kicked out. Shall we continue the game?”
Kellin looks at the digital clock above the food court.
“First, I want food. Then we shall,” Kellin says, standing up and heading over to the Panda Express kiosk, Frank following after him.
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“And so to find the value of x you divide four by itself and then go to the other side of the equal sign...”
Gerard’s math teacher drones on and on and on, and honestly Gerard no longer has any desire to hear about these damned equations, he wants to fucking ditch.
Usually, Gerard is the one talking the boys into staying at school. This time though, he’s the one talking them in to leaving.
“Guys,” Gerard whines, drawing out the u and y, “I wanna leeeeeeaaaaave.”
Andy shakes his head. “Gee, we’ve already missed a fuckload of school this semester, we are this close to landing our asses in prison. And you know that if they arrest us for one thing they’ll find out about the rest.”
Gerard makes a puppy face. “Oli, tell him he’s an inconsiderate fuckwad and we should ditch.”
Oli looks up at Gerard and stops poking his fork at the goop the cafeteria has tried to pass as chicken and rice, giving Gerard a huge grin. Oli turns to Andy and calmly states, “You are an inconsiderate fuckwad and we should ditch.”
“I second that,” Vic says.
Gerard’s grin rivals Oli’s. “You hear that Andy? The vote is three to one. We’re ditching.”
Andy sighs and drops his head to the table with a painful thunk.
“Firstly, ow. Second, you all are bent on getting us turned into someone's prison bitch. You cannot fathom the amount of idiocy that you all possess. Let’s go before someone notices we’re gone.”
After a (quiet) cheer of victory, the boys exit the school grounds as discreetly as possible and pile into Andy’s truck.
“So where to?” Andy asks over the combined roar of the music blaring through the speakers and the engine.
“Mall! I want something that can actually be classified as food!” Oli shouts in reply.
“Sounds good to me.” Andy says. They pull out of the school parking lot and on to the highway.
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“And Jesus said, ‘Let there be Chinese food’,” Kellin says through a mouthful of fried rice.
“I agree,” Frank says as he leans over the table a little bit and stabs a piece of Kellin’s chicken with his fork.
“Hey!” Kellin pouts. Frank simply sends him a devilish smile and proceeds to steal another piece of chicken, laughing when Kellin keeps pouting and flips him off.
“So which store shall be our next victim?” Kellin asks, standing slightly and reaching over the table to steal some of Frank’s food.
Frank gasps, pretending to be offended, dropping the act before responding.
“I think... Victoria’s Secret,” Frank says.
Kellin breaks out in a huge smile. “I’ve got a plan. Finish your food so we can get this show on the road, because trust me. This is a genius plan.”
Frank raises an eyebrow skeptically, but speeds up his eating nonetheless. His curiosity over Kellin’s plan is killing him.
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After a death-defying drive (and way too much road rage from Andy), the four boys pile out of the car and enter the mall.
“Food. Now,” Oli says, running towards the nearest escalator. Gerard keeps his eye on Oli, but turns to Andy and Vic.
“I know you two wanna go to Hot Topic, so I’ll hang out with Oli and you two can go fuck around,” Gerard says. Andy pats Gerard on the shoulder.
“Thank you man. Only you have the patience to deal with Oli when he’s hungry.”
Gerard smiles, gives a two finger mock-salute and dashes after Oli, running up the escalator two at a time to attempt to catch up with him.
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Receiving multiple dirty and disgusted looks from both the employees and customers, Kellin and Frank calmly enter Victoria’s Secret.
“Follow my lead,” Kellin whispers to Frank, continuing on into the store when he gets a nod in response.
Kellin walks over to the weird ass bin things that all the underwear is in and pulls up a small, lacey black thong.
“What do you think honey? Would I look good in this?” Kellin asks, holding the thin piece of material up.
“Hmm,” Frank says. He shoots Kellin a smirk before taking the thong and holding it against the front of Kellin’s pants.
“You would look delicious, darling,” Frank said, making sure that the people in the store can hear him.
Kellin is poorly suppressing a huge grin, trying his very best to look serious. “Would you like me to model it for you?”
“Yes, yes I would,” Frank says, failing himself to keep down a smile.
The pair walk in the direction of the changing rooms, holding hands, until an employee steps in front of them.
“I’m sorry sirs, but we’re going to have to ask you to leave,” She says, looking them up and down with a look is undoubtedly disgust.
Frank wraps an arm around Kellin’s waist and feigns offense. “Well don’t expect either myself or my beautiful boyfriend to ever shop here again!”
They fake anger as they march out of the store, Kellin shooting the thong like a rubber band at the employee who had so politely kicked them out and Frank raising a hand with his middle finger high as they leave.
They choke down giggles as they leave the store, and as soon as they’re a good fifty or so feet away, they collapse in laughter, leaning against the other like they can hold each other up. Which they can’t, because their entire bodies are shaking with the force of their laughter.
“That was the best idea ever! Oh god Kells, I can’t feel my sides dear Jesus!” Frank laughs.
“Did you see her fucking face? ‘Sirs, I’m going to have to ask you to leave because I’m jealous that your dick game is better than mine’. Her face! Her face!” Kellin mocks the employee, raising his already high pitched voice impossibly higher, causing Frank’s sides to burst with pain from the increase in laughter.
Once they get their breathing back down to a regular rate (or at least semi-regular) they walk back over to the food court, which has become their impromptu home base, collapsing with a flourish, still breathing heavily.
“We deserve an Oscar for that. That was some top-notch acting right there,” Kellin says. Frank nods in agreement.
“So what’s next?” Frank asks, scouring the food kiosks for something he can eat relatively quickly, finally noticing he’s a little hungry, since he skipped lunch and all.
“More food,” Kellin says loudly, standing up abruptly and practically running over to the Baskin Robin’s kiosk.
Frank shakes his head and follows his friend, figuring that ice cream is as good a lunch as anything else in this damn food court.
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Oli glances up from his plate of food at the two boys doubled over in laughter about twenty feet away from himself and Gerard. He’s tempted to shout at them to shut the hell up, but he thinks better of it and shovels more food in his mouth.
“Jesus Oli, slow down, you’re going to choke to death,” Gerard says with a smile. Oli promptly raises his middle finger and continues to practically inhale his food. Gerard simply smiles at his friend’s antics, letting his gaze drift around the pretty damn full food court.
His gaze lands on a boy with short black hair appears to be following a taller boy to the Baskin Robins kiosk, and abruptly, Gerard is thrown into the memories of last night. This boy does look a lot similar to the one he met last night, but he won’t ever know for sure, not unless he gets up and talks to the boy.
Which is never going to happen, by the way. Gerard had had a hard enough time warming up to Oli, Andy and Vic, and taking up the initiative to go talk to someone on his own is fucking terrifying.
Pushing his anxiety back down to an acceptable rate, Gerard shifts his attention smoothly back to Oli, who’s scooping his food onto his fork, only to set it back down again. Something is most definitely wrong.
“Hey Oli, you okay?” Gerard asks, tilting his head, following Oli’s gaze with his own eyes, trying to find where it is that Oli is staring.
“Yeah... Just...Last night... do you think any of those people we killed were in love?”
Gerard is taken aback, but nonetheless rolls his eyes. “Oli, you shouldn’t worry about that stuff, okay? If they were in love they would have either gotten out of the gang or made sure their partner was aware of the risks. Don’t feel bad, alright? It’s over now, it’s beyond our control.”
Oli nods. “Yeah, you’re right. Did the guys go to Hot Topic?” He asks, changing the subject as he continues to eat the rest of his food.
“Yup. I won’t be surprised if Andy blows his whole life savings in that damned store,” Gerard chuckles. Oli makes a noise in response and Gerard lets the conversation drop.
His gaze drifts once more to the boy he’d seen earlier, who’s leaning against the counter while his friend either places an order or flirts with the employee.
Gerard squints, trying to pull up the mental image of the boy from last night and compare it to the face of the boy he’s looking at right now.
He feels his pulse rise again, but not from anxiety this time.
This time, it’s from excitement.
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The music is loud, as always, the employees stare at the customers like if they look at them hard enough they’ll drop dead, and Andy is staring up in awe at a wall of band shirts, like every other time the pair ventured into Hot Topic.
Vic, however, is enjoying the music more than anything else around him. Well, a tiny bit more than the look of awe plastered on Andy’s face. That’s always pretty amusing.
“Hey man, can I help you with anything?” An employee asks. He’s got a piercing by his eye (a little unusual, but nonetheless cool) and his ears are stretched to oblivion. Vic internally winces at how much it must have hurt to do that.
“Nah,” Vic says, “I’m just waiting for my friend do get over his bandgasm and buy a goddamned shirt.”
The employee laughs. “Bandgasm. Haven’t heard that one before, and that’s saying something. I’m Tony,” He says, offering his hand for a shake.
“I’m Vic,” He responds, accepting the handshake.
“Nice to meet you.”
For the next hour or so, Vic leans against the counter and talks to Tony while Andy continues to stare at all the shirts like a child at Christmas. They have some pretty good conversations, and after a bit Vic starts feels like he can trust this guy. He doesn’t seem like a potential ‘member’, probably just a good friend or connection, but Vic’s always looking for those. One of his mottos is “look for low friends in high places.”
When Tony brings up the subject (as a topic that stems off of shoplifting) of the bodies that the police recovered from a gang fight, Vic can feel himself visibly tensing.
And even though they’ve just met, Tony’s giving Vic nearly every reason to trust him.
With a deep breath, Vic decides to take the chance.
“Promise you won’t freak out if I tell you a secret?” Vic asks, lowering his voice so that the people around him would have to want to listen to hear the conversation. He feels his heart pounding against his ribcage, and he keeps mentally hitting himself because he knows that if this goes wrong Andy will not hesitate to lodge a bullet in his skull, and Tony’s. And so far, Tony hasn’t done anything wrong.
“Sure,” Tony says. Vic takes another deep breath and calmly says words he’s never really said before.
“I’m in a gang. One of the gangs that was in that fight, the winning gang, if you will,” Vic says in a rush, watching Tony’s face for any signs of panic.
For a second, Tony’s pupils dilate in shock, but then they shrink back down to normal size. Tony grins.
“Promise you won’t freak out if I tell you a secret too?” He asks, repeating Vic’s own words.
“Promise,” Vic responds.
“I’m a drug dealer. Second biggest dealer in the county,” Tony admits.
Vic collapses against the counter.
“Oh thank God because I was afraid you were gonna call the police and land my stupid ass in prison,” Vic says.
“I would only do that if I felt like getting caught too. And since the income is pretty good, I think not,” Tony laughs.
“So why do you have a job here then?” Vic asks. He knows a lot of the basic prices for drugs, and depending on how much you’re selling, the job pays pretty damn well, making it all worth the risk, which runs rather high.
“I can’t just help my mom pay bills with magic money that appears out of nowhere. I gotta at least have a job that she knows about somewhere so she doesn’t start to suspect I’m stealing or something.”
At that, Vic laughs.
“Oh yeah, God forbid that you stole money. Drug dealing is a much more honest way of earning cash.”
Tony can’t help but laugh as well. “Hey, at least I don’t do the shit I sell. Then I would be as fucked up as most of my customers and boy, would I be in some trouble.”
Vic nods in agreement. “Clean and selling is better than being a junkie and using more shit than you’re selling.”
“Exactly my philosophy. Besides, it would break my mom’s heart enough to hear that I sell drugs, it would totally crush her to find out I was doing them as well. Might as well let her rest a little better at night.”
“Hey dude, be glad your mom even cares. I’d fucking kill for a set of parents that gave a fuck about what I do. Hell, I’d fucking kill for a set of parents in general. You’re lucky as fuck,” Vic says.
“And I am thankful for my mom. She cares, and I’m sorry to hear that your parents don’t. I’m sure that if my mom met you she’d adopt you on the spot. Anybody she can cook for,” Tony jokes.
While Andy continues to fondle shirts, the pair exchange stories about their time on the wrong side of the tracks, and as it turns out, Tony had once been mixed up in a gang. He just barely managed to get out, handing over a large portion of his drugs to the leader and all of the cash he was carrying on his person, which turns out to be quite a lot.
“I still don’t know why they let me off that easy. One girl, Erica, had to have the living shit beat out of her to get out. Scary as fuck, man, and I was sure they were gonna do that to me.”
Vic lets out a low whistle. “I don’t really think our gang is big enough to get people kicked out, ya know? There’s only four of us that do the actual dirty work, the rest are just connections.”
“Holy shit, that’s small. How do you guys manage to make such a big name for yourselves? And don’t be shocked, of course I’ve fucking heard of you guys. Jewelry store last Monday. One of my customers co-owns the place.” Tony says in response to the look on Vic’s face, which is an amusing mixture of shock and confusion.
“Tactics, I guess. Andy, that fucker over there, makes sure everyone can shoot a gun well, we plan on getting caught, we keep low profiles, and we don’t do stupid flamboyant shit... It’s not that complicated. We don’t purposely start stuff.”
Tony nods. “That is pretty smart. The gang I was in before was all about the attention. They did some really dumb stuff that nearly got us caught on a weekly basis.”
“Well hey, if you ever need some company and an adrenaline rush, you can always hang out with us. Not saying you have to do anything, you can if you want, but if you ever want company that is more entertaining than those scene queens, we’re always available,” Vic proposes, a little on the spot, but from what he’s learned so far, Tony appears to be pretty cool, and pretty reliable.
Tony seems to ponder the rather spontaneous offer for a moment, before responding. “Fuck it. Hell yeah. So do you guys have an initiation or some shit? The gang I was in did, and if I have to do some shit like that again, I’m out.”
“Don’t worry, there’s not really anything you have to do. Making sure Andy likes you is enough,” Vic says, gesturing to his friend.
“Ah. I see. He’s one of those Alpha-Wolf types isn’t he?” Tony asks, eyes tearing apart every fraction of Andy’s appearance, searching for details about his personality and life from what’s visible.
Vic chuckles. “You have no idea. I think there’s only one person on this planet that can talk him into things, and that would be Oli, who is currently eating the entire food court.”
Tony grins. “I’m always up for a challenge. I refuse to believe he’s more difficult than some of my customers. Those people can bitch and complain about anything and everything, and it’s only until you remind them that you have possession of the substance that owns their soul that they drop to their knees and start begging.”
“I like that description,” Vic muses. “Anyway,” He continues, “When Andy finishes having a fangirl attack, you should clock out or whatever and hang out with us. You’re cool and the universe can get boring.”
“Sure thing. All these scene kids make me want to shoot myself after a while anyway,” Tony replies, sending a look that could kill to a girl with her back turned to them that has majorly over-teased blonde and rainbow hair paired with a neon Hello Kitty clip and kandi bracelets up and down her arms.
It’s right around then that Andy walks up to the register, three shirts in hand, a look of pure excitement on his face.
While Tony is ringing him up, Vic decides the best approach to this would to be extremely blunt and perhaps throw a small sense of humor in there.
“Hey Andy, ask Tony for some heroin,” Vic says, leaning against the counter so he’s got a full view of Andy and Tony’s faces.
Tony grins widely, while Andy looks at Vic like he’s lost his mind. Cautiously, he turns to Tony.
“You got any heroin?” He asks, looking at Vic with the most questioning look Vic thinks has ever seen, or that anyone’s ever given him.
“Yeah, but I can’t give it to you here. You gotta give me a blowjob first, then we’ll talk prices,” Tony pretends, feigning complete seriousness, finally cracking and laughing as the look of shock and confusion heightens on Andy’s face.
“Victor Fuentes, what in the hell?” Andy demands, tucking his wallet back into his jeans.
“Well, Tony here is a drug dealer. He’s pretty cool, if I do say so myself, and I think he’d be a nice addition to our little group, if you catch my drift. Don’t worry, he just sells, doesn’t do the shit. Opinion?” Vic proposes.
Andy looks at Tony for a second, then to Vic, then back to Tony, before nodding. “Not everyone is brave enough to make a blowjob-for-drugs joke. Welcome to our little group. Try not to get yourself killed.”
Tony grins, says his thanks and assures that he’ll do his best to stay alive, before shouting at another employee that he’s leaving and hopping over the counter.
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Kellin is being indecisive as fuck and it’s visibly pushing Frank’s tolerance. Instead of picking a flavor of ice cream, Kellin’s just fliting shamelessly with the cashier. Eventually, Frank heaves a sigh and elbows his friend in the ribs, causing Kellin to throw his hand over his side and bit his lip to keep from groaning in pain. Frank smiles at the cashier and orders for themselves, deciding that Kellin won’t be ordering anytime soon.
“My friend will have cookie dough, small, bowl please, and I’ll take a small vanilla cone,” Frank says. Kellin scrunches up his face up and glares at Frank.
“Meanie,” He mutters under his breath, just loud enough for Frank to hear.
“Put a lid on it,” Frank bites back.
Once they have their ice cream, they go and sit back down. Frank shakes his head at Kellin.
“What is it with you and your need to flirt with everything that looks at you?” He asks. Kellin simply shrugs and spooned some ice cream into his mouth.
“I don’t flirt with everything that looks at me. In my defense, they usually look first. Then I flirt.”
Frank rolls his eyes.
“If I paid you money, would you flirt with a dude?” It’s a relatively innocent question, and Frank is merely curious at the extent of his friend’s flirtatious ways.
“Hell, you don’t need to pay me for that. I’d gladly do it for free,” Kellin says, now scoping out the food court for a suitable target.
Frank laughs. “Dude, I was joking. You don’t have to.”
“Fine, take away all my fun,” Kellin says dismally, pouting a little and returning his attention to his ice cream.
Abruptly, Frank feels funny. It only lasts for a second, but he knows that he’s being watched. As always, he refuses to make eye contact and/or look around for whoever’s watching him. Over the years, he has managed to perfect the talent of telling when someone’s watching him, drawing experience from all the times that he’s seen various adults watch him when he was on the swing set at the children’s park down the road from his house, earbuds jammed in his ears, drowning out the world and the cheers of the little children, lost in the motion of the swing.
“Dude. Blond boy, two tables behind us and to my right, staring at you like you’re a Greek god,” Kellin says, flicking his glance up once, twice, and then shifting it back quickly to Frank.
Frank’s heart speeds up minutely. He doesn’t think it’s possible, not really. The chances of the person staring at him now being the same boy from last night were low, so very, very low... but he’s got this tiny spark of hope...
“Give me a basic description,” Frank says.
“Okay... Um, taller than you by the looks of it, but that’s not much of an accomplishment, his hair is bleached so much it’s practically white, hazel eyes I think, I can’t really tell from here, he’s pale as fuck... Why, ring a bell?” Kellin asks.
“Yeah.... he sounds a lot like the boy from last night...” Frank says, his hopes increasingly climbing upward.
“Dude, really? Seriously?” Kellin questions Frank, doubting Frank only a tiny bit.
Frank nods. “I’m...I’m pretty sure, you know, considering all I’m going off of right now is your description.”
Kellin grins. “So what are we gonna do to get his attention?”
Frank shrugs. “I honestly don’t know. Maybe it’d just be easier if we let him be.”
Somehow, Kellin’s grin gets even wider.
“Oh, we’re going to talk to him. But don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ve got a plan.”
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While they make their way to the food court, Andy and Vic give Tony the best run-down that they can of what to expect with Gerard and Oli. They’ve never really had to do this before, so everything is rather impromptu.
“Oli can be quick with his anger, especially if you hurt someone he cares about. Like a while back somebody called Gerard a faggot and it took all three of us to stop Oli before he killed the guy. He’s better with a knife than a gun, but likes using a gun because it works faster. Also, he tends to get really pissy and whiny when he’s hungry. That’s about it for Oli... Andy? Wanna tell him about Gerard?” Vic says, dropping his end of the conversation and indicating that Andy should pick it up and continue on.
“Gerard is extremely shy and has pretty bad anxiety. It takes him a really long time to warm up to people, to have trust in them. He’s the same as Oli, he’ll kill you without a second thought if you mess with someone he cares about. One of his only faults is that he cares a little too much about pedestrians being caught in the crossfire, and he’s always checking to make sure nobody that isn’t gang-associated got hurt. The kid can kill you with one shot, unless he feels like making you suffer first, in which case, he’s fucking ruthless,” Andy concludes.
Tony nods. “I can handle that. A lot less violent than the larger portion of my clients. I nearly had to get one of my friends who’s in an underground street fighting club thing to hold the worst of them off.”
“People are nuts, man, they’ll do anything to get their hands on whatever they think they can’t live without,” Vic says, shaking his head.
“That is all too true,” Tony agrees.
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“HEY YOU! BLONDIE!” Kellin shouts across the food court, standing on his chair. Frank stands up a little and smacks Kellin on the arm, as if that can get him to sit down and stop yelling, and after his attempt proves to be in vain, he slinks back down into his own chair.
“This was your plan?” Frank asks, sliding a hand down his face in exasperation.
“Shut up, this plan is brilliant,” Kellin says, looking down at Frank before he resumes yelling at the boy. “YEAH YOU. I’M TALKING TO YOU, DAMMIT. C’MERE,” Kellin shouts, earning the pair dirty looks.
A girl with dark blue hair shouts back at Kellin. “SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH. I WANT TO EAT IN PEACE.”
Kellin calmly responds with a middle finger in her direction, while Gerard and his friend stand (or at least Frank hopes it’s Gerard, otherwise things are about to get really, unnecessarily awkward), a look on Gerard’s face that could be classified as something between hostility and curiosity, the look on his friend’s face pure, unadulterated aggression.
Frank can hear his heartbeat pound in his ears as Gerard comes closer, and there’s no doubt about it that this is him.
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Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy motherfucking shit.
He’s actually seeing Frank again. Gerard had hoped that he would, but he knew that the probability was drastically low and that he more than likely wouldn’t come into contact with Frank again. Now, now he has, there Frank is, lip ring and all, smiling shyly while shooting a death glare at the boy still standing on his chair.
He feels Oli put a hand on his shoulder. “Stay with me, Gee,” Oli mutters, leaning in close to Gerard’s ear.
Frank’s friend hops off of his chair and steals two more from another table nearby. He sets them down next to the ones that he and Frank were already seated at, still standing, leaning in and muttering something to Frank.
“Alright, give me one reason not to shoot you right now,” Oli growls, pushing his finger into Kellin’s chest.
“Ooh, demanding. Me likey. You wanna take this somewhere more private big boy?” Kellin says, biting his lip and making obvious bedroom eyes at Oli.
“Kellin, sit your whore ass down and stop flirting with every-fucking-body. I apologize for my friend’s stupid face. You can, ah, sit down, if you want?” Frank says, reaching across the table to yank Kellin’s wrist and pull him into his chair.
Gerard smiles, a very small, very nervous smile, and Frank thinks it’s adorable.
“It’s alright. C’mon Oli, sit down, resist the urge to strangle him. Please,” Gerard says, tacking on the ‘please’ as a hopeful bartering chip. Oli huffs and then reluctantly sits down in the chair next to Kellin, Gerard taking the one next to Frank.
“Fancy meeting you here, in a fucking food court of all places,” Frank says, turning to Gerard and giving him a little smile of his own.
“Yeah,” Gerard says, just barely above a whisper. Frank notices that Gerard’s hands are a little on the shaky side and that his eyes are darting around the room, and Frank can’t help but wonder if he’s got some sort of anxiety disorder, but his theories are interrupted by Kellin speaking again.
Oli has kept glowering at Kellin, who’s eating the rest of his ice cream, minding his own business for the most part and occasionally looking up at Oli.
“Okay, Blondie, get your friend to stop giving me death glares. I’m just trying to eat my goddamn ice cream and he just keeps looking at me like he either wants kinky sex or to slit my throat, and right now I’m not really up for either,” Kellin says. Gerard chuckles.
“You can stop calling me blondie, by the way. My name is Gerard. And Oli, seriously, he did me a huge favor. Stop it.”
Oli mutters something inaudible and shoots Kellin one last glare before falling silent.
It’s not very long before all four boys are absorbed in conversation, ranging from the teachers they hate the most (upon discovery that they go to the same school) to the best way to talk a llama into eating ham (what can Kellin say, Napoleon Dynamite made him laugh really hard).
Gerard visibly tenses when three other boys approach them. Oli takes note of his friend’s suddenly tensed posture and turns his head around slightly, and when his gaze finds the trio approaching them, he grins.
Kellin looks at Frank, trying to communicate with his eyes and various facial expressions ‘I am both terrified of approaching cute boy and approaching cute boy holy motherfucking shit.’
Frank just smiles and shakes his head. When Gerard turns to face the oncoming entourage, his back now turned to Frank, he wiggles a pen free from his pocket and hurriedly scribbles his number down on a napkin, much to Kellin’s silent pleasure.
“Gee, Oli, we gotta go, okay?” The tall one with blue eyes says. “And uh... You... tall-lanky-skinny-girl-thing...Stop eye fucking my friend, okay, it’s really weird when we’re in a public space.”
“Huh?” Kellin says, tearing his gaze away from the tanned boy in front of him. He sighs heavily. “I guess I will, but only because you have pretty eyes.”
Once more Frank has to apologize for Kellin’s antics. The boys accept the apology, the boy with the blue eyes waving it off with a hand gesture. Gerard and Oli stand, and Frank asks Gerard for a quick hug, slipping the napkin with his number on it into Gee’s jacket pocket as discreetly as he can.
When they pull apart, Gerard gives him a wave goodbye in a smile, and Kellin grabs Frank and gives him a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek.
“I’m so proud of you! Look at you, gonna get that dick!” Kellin says.
“Shut up Kellin,” Frank bites back, wiping at his cheek.
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“I feel like that was a day productively wasted. You know, if that makes sense,” Frank says as they exit the mall, about half an hour after they had parted ways with the other boys.
“I agree completely. Never have I ever had so much fun in my life,” Kellin replies, grinning at the memory of the adventure in Victoria’s Secret. That was probably one of the most brilliant plans ever concocted.
“And what are the chances that Gerard was going to be there? Next to none, right? I’m telling you Kells, the universe is trying to get us together.”
“That, and his Mexican friend is really fucking hot,” Kellin says.
“Seriously, where did this sudden desire to fuck everything on two legs come from?” Frank says, turning to Kellin and giving him the most questioning look he can manage.
“Since I slept in the bathtub like Ke$ha. It’s like my spirit connected with her and suddenly I wanted to fuck everything.”
Frank reaches up and smacks Kellin upside the head, hopefully removing that shit-eating grin. It didn’t, if anything, the smack amplified it.
Kellin laughs and breaks into a run.
The pair races around the corner, Frank close behind Kellin and shouting things ranging from “that’s right, you better run motherfucker” to “do you lose feeling in your dick running in those jeans?”
Frank lives a walking distance from the mall, so they wind up racing back to Frank’s house.
Once they get inside, the collapse on the couch in laughter, Frank gaining just enough energy to shift over and smack Kellin again.
“But still, he was really cute,” Kellin says.
“Get some sleep, you delusional fucker,” Frank replies, pulling Kellin up from the couch and pushing him in the direction of the bedroom, knowing full well that attempting to sleep in bathtubs tended to not work at all.
“Only if you cuddle with me,” Kellin says with a pout.
Frank rolls his eyes so hard he thinks he pops a blood vessel. “Fine,” He relents. “But only for a little while.”
“Yay!” Kellin chirps, and Frank kind of wonders why he ever wanted to be friends with this weirdo in the first place.
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The ride back in Andy’s truck lacks music this time. It’s been replaced with conversation, questions and stories being exchanged between the four other boys and Tony.
When Gerard sticks his hands in his pockets, they’re met with the roughish texture of a napkin. Curiously, he pulls it out and reads the scrawled message.
Dammit, his pulse is doing the uppy thing again. He seriously needs to either stop letting things get to him or get some fucking anxiety medication or some shit. This shit is tiring.
“It’s just a series of numbers, Gee, get a fucking grip,” He whispers to himself. Nonetheless, he can’t help but have to suppress a girlish squeal of excitement. God, he’s borderline pathetic.
“Is that his number?” Oli whispers, nudging Gerard’s leg with his own. Gerard nods and smiles.
“You two would be cute together,” Vic throws in. Damn him and his excellent hearing.
“Who?” Andy asks, glancing back at his friends in the rearview mirror.
“Gerard and that short kid with the lip ring from the mall,” Oli replies. Gerard’s face turns a slight shade of pink, and he smacks Oli’s arm. Andy laughs.
“Oh hell yeah. Gee, you should give him a call, set up a date.”
“Andy... You know how this could turn out. If things go well...Too well... it could end up like you and Juliet,” Gerard says quietly, looking at his hands and rubbing the corner of the napkin between his fingers.
Andy tenses at that, his knuckles going white on the steering wheel.
“Yeah, okay. I get it. Still though, give him a call, you never know. It might be worth the risk.”
Gerard nods in agreement, putting the napkin back in his pocket. Tony shoots him a grin and a thumbs up, and Gerard replies with an equally silent small, hesitant smile.
Maybe Tony isn’t so bad. It’s not like Gerard doubts him, he’s just naturally nervous that Tony’s going to be loud and cocky and not anywhere near understanding. But if Vic likes him... Well... He can’t be that bad at all.
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“Did you hear that Frankie? She waited for him,” Kellin says, shoving more popcorn into his mouth and talking around the mouthful. They’ve decided to watch some shitty romance movies, curled up on the couch, making fun of the stereotypical plotlines and shooting suction cup Nerf darts at the screen whenever the couple kissed.
“Ew ew ew ew!” Frank shouts as he peppers the screen with foam darts.
“Get a life you fucking whore!” Kellin yells as he throws popcorn at the screen.
The sounds of people sucking face are abruptly drowned out by a loud metal guitar solo, and Frank swears.
“Fuck,” Frank says, fishing around in his pocket before he pulls out his phone, making a confused face. “I don’t recognize this number... should I answer it?”
Kellin pauses the TV and nods eagerly. “It could be Gerard, answer it!”
Frank takes a few deep breaths and accepts the call.
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Gerard hopes that Frank will hurry and pick up before Gerard passes out. He is so nervous, so fucking ridiculously nervous.
“Deep breaths, you fuck,” Gerard mutters to himself. “It’s a phone call, just a phone call.”
He releases a breath that he didn’t know he was holding when Frank answers with an equally nervous tone.
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Three hours later, they have a date set up for a week from then at a quiet little café on the other side of town. When Frank finally gets off the phone, Kellin attacks him with questions.
“WHEN HOW WHERE ANSWER ME IERO!” He shouts all at once.
Frank laughs. “Calm down, Mr. Lonely. We’re going to a coffee shop on the other side of town a week from now.”
Despite his best efforts to remain calm, Kellin throws popcorn at Frank.
“You little shit, now you’re gonna be with him all the time and leave me all alone with crappy movies and a quart of ice cream,” He sniffles. “You don’t love me do you?”
Frank rolls his eyes and launches himself at Kellin, tackling him in a bear hug.
“I love you, you fucking bathtub sleeping whore. I promise I won’t be ditching you just because I get some dude to make out with. If we’re lucky, we can find you a dude. Or a chick. Whatever lifts your skirt.”
“I want that Mexican boy to lift my skirt.”
“Will you stop that and turn the movie back on?”
Kellin sighs heavily. “I guess.”
And the room is consumed once again in noise, the yells of teenage boys protesting romance movies and the smell of popcorn reaching the ceiling and filling the room to the brim and beyond.
Kellin won’t be alone, Frank won’t leave him, ever.
For once in his life, Kellin can trust someone not to leave him.
He quite likes this feeling.
♠ ♠ ♠
Someone remind me why I even decided to edit this in the first place because now this chapter is even longer than it was when I first wrote it hoo boy