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Frank Iero just ate shit on the sidewalk.
Fuck
It’s not like he was already late to class or anything. It’s not like his professor was a hardass who marked students absent if they were over 15 minutes late. It’s not like he got blood all over his white shoes or anything.
Fuck
In hindsight, maybe skateboarding in sneaker high heels was a bad idea. But they just looked so cool, and Frank was so sure of his skateboarding abilities…at least those were his last few thoughts before tumbling onto pavement
He’s not quite so sure about his abilities now.
Frank groans and picks himself up off the sidewalk, assessing the damage to his knees. And his palms. And his jeans and worst of all his shoes. For a few moments, he considers this just being the universe giving him a big fuck you and skipping class in response. Then he reconsiders his participation grade, and the fact that it was his senior year and he was already treacherously close to failing this stupid fucking gen ed, (why does a psychology major need a physics course anyways. He is going to kill himself) and he musters every bit of will left to pick up his skateboard and begin the walk to class.
Perhaps there’s still a bright side to all this, Frank thinks as he tries not to grimace from how much it fucking hurts to walk after your patella has just exploded onto the pavement. This physics class means he gets to see his crush again, which almost makes going worth it. He’s lost in thought as he walks, thinking of the beautiful, dangerously androgynous art student that sits just close enough so Frank can see them and far enough away that the glances he darts towards them aren’t creepy.
Well, not that creepy at least.
Frank honestly didn’t know much about them, they’d never talked or anything. He knew that their name was Gerard, he knew that they were also a senior, that they were an art student, and he knew that they were the prettiest fucking guy (??) Frank had ever seen in his life. He’d been meaning to say something to them for weeks now, but anxiety always got the best of him. Besides, someone that gorgeous had to have a partner already, right?
Frank stumbles into class, pain practically forgotten by now. But he’s late, and the whole class turns to stare at him as he walks in.
“Yeah, I know I’m late,” Frank grumbles, taking his seat. That’s when he looks down and realizes oh, they’re not staring because I’m late. They’re all staring because I look like a fucking murder scene from the waist down.
“Frank…are you okay?” The professor asks, clearly concerned. This worries Frank, concern was not an emotion he was familiar with his professor entertaining.
“I’m fine, really. Just had a little mishap.”
This answer does not satisfy Dr. DeSilva. Instead he turns to..oh fuck he’s turning to Gerard what the fuck
“Gerard, could you go with Frank and get him the first aid kit from my office?”
Frank feels like he’s going to throw up.
Everything is happening in slow motion as Gerard gets up and walks toward him. They look even more stunning than usual if that’s even possible. They’re just in a hoodie and black ripped jeans, their black dyed hair is rumpled in that perfect morning after way, and they’re wearing eyeshadow that makes them look half dead. It’s a combination that makes Frank deaf to everything but the thumping of his heart.
They walk out of the classroom in silence, Frank too nervous to say anything. Shit, he hopes he doesn’t come off like some major tool. He just knows that if he opens his mouth he’s going to throw up all over his brand-new white shoes.
They stay quiet like that until Gerard finds the first aid kit.
“Okay, sit down and I can fix you up,” Gerard says, kneeling down and opening the first aid box in front of Frank as he staggers down into a chair. Fuck, Gerard’s voice is like a little bell, utterly distinctive and smaller than a fucking blueberry what the fuck. Gerard starts to pour out alcohol on a pad, and they’re biting their lip to focus and oh fuck me they’re on their knees and…
“You look really pretty like that,” Frank blurts.
Shit
Gerard stops what they’re doing and looks up at Frank. Frank feels relief wash over him as he realizes Gerard actually doesn’t seem all that upset. Instead, they seem…amused?
“Like what?” Gerard asks, staring up at Frank. They seem to be almost teasing, a little smirk on their face.
“I mean like. Well. I’m. Fuck.” Frank sputters. Gerard just laughs in response, taking the opening to dab alcohol onto Frank’s knee. Frank barely stifles a yell.
“Jesus Christ dude, can I get a warning?”
Gerard just laughs again. Frank frowns. He doesn’t think he’s all that funny, but alright.
A few more moments of silence pass before Gerard speaks up again in that bell of a voice.
“You know, I’ve noticed you looking at me in class.”
Frank goes red.
“It’s okay though,” Gerard murmurs, dabbing away the last of the blood. “I’m flattered. And for all it’s worth, I think you’re pretty handsome yourself.”
Frank is about to fucking black out. “Th-thanks.”
Gerard is so gentle as they wrap up Frank’s knee. It’s unreal, they’re like a baby bird or some stupid shit like that. Once Frank’s knee is wrapped, he starts to move to stand up.
“Well, we should probably get back to class-”
He’s stopped by a hand on his chest.
“Hold on, there’s something I want to do first.” Gerard murmurs, running his beautiful fucking artist hands along Frank’s arms.
And just like that, they’re kissing. Gerard’s soft (vanilla flavored? Holy shit) lips are pressed against Frank’s. Frank’s heart is pounding against his chest, and he wraps his arms around Gerard, pulling them close. Gerard slides onto Frank’s lap and the kiss deepens, with Frank’s tongue experimentally sliding over Gerard's lips and just like that Frank’s tongue is in Gerard’s mouth and Frank is going to fucking blow up.
Entirely too soon, they pull apart. Frank runs his hands down Gerard’s back, drifting lower and lower until they’re resting on their ass. Gerard leans into it, pressing little kisses down Frank’s face.
“We,” kiss “should” kiss “get” kiss “back” kiss “to class” kiss kiss kiss
Frank just nods in response, not really sure what he’s agreeing to. When Gerard slides off his lap he gives a little whine, reaching out to grab his classmate again. Gerard takes his hand and pulls him up out of the chair, planting another kiss on his lips as they do. They slide a piece of paper into Frank’s pocket as they break apart, hand lingering right next to Frank’s fucking crotch are you shitting me for a moment.
“Call me,” Gerard murmurs. “We should go out sometime.”
Frank nods, his whole body flushed and his heart still pounding. “Ye-yeah. Let’s go out sometime.”
And then they’re both out the door, walking back to class like nothing just happened between them.