Dude, that Bob/Brian is turning into an actual story, so I'm glad you pestered me into it. *grins*
Frank is feeling kind of irritated.
No, scratch that, Frank is really fucking annoyed. This, this broken toe thing, is bullshit. Absolute bullshit. And not even the fact that they're in an actual hotel room tonight helps.
"You should really elevate your foot, you know," Gerard says absently. He's rifling through his bag, probably looking for the comic he was reading earlier. Frank's not going to tell him that the comic is still on the bus, because Gerard is an absentminded motherfucker and left it in the kitchen, and Frank rescued it from catching on fire when Mikey was making toast.
"Doesn't help," he says instead, glaring balefully at his foot. It's hurting a lot, actually, and he's out of painkillers. He could go get some (someone always has them, Bob definitely does), but he doesn't feel like hobbling down the hall right now.
Gerard makes an impatient noise and pushes his bag away. "Stop being such a brat, fucker," he says and walks over to the bed.
Frank looks up at him, unconsciously pushing into it when Gerard gets a hand in his hair. "I just--" he says, losing some of his irritation just from having Gerard close, warm and smiling.
"Shhh," Gerard says and kisses him.
He pulls away and grins at Frank's protesting noise, then he gets on the bed and sits, leaning against the headboard.
"Come on, asshole," he says warmly and gets Frank to sit with his back against Gerard's chest, leaning into him. Frank tries to get a hand between them (seriously, it's a hotel night), but Gerard holds him still. "Just sit for a minute," he says, and Frank settles.
They end up watching Ghostbusters, which is somehow always on, and Frank drifts off between one scene and the next, Gerard's arms anchoring him.
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Date: 2009-08-25 06:48 am (UTC)Frank is feeling kind of irritated.
No, scratch that, Frank is really fucking annoyed. This, this broken toe thing, is bullshit. Absolute bullshit. And not even the fact that they're in an actual hotel room tonight helps.
"You should really elevate your foot, you know," Gerard says absently. He's rifling through his bag, probably looking for the comic he was reading earlier. Frank's not going to tell him that the comic is still on the bus, because Gerard is an absentminded motherfucker and left it in the kitchen, and Frank rescued it from catching on fire when Mikey was making toast.
"Doesn't help," he says instead, glaring balefully at his foot. It's hurting a lot, actually, and he's out of painkillers. He could go get some (someone always has them, Bob definitely does), but he doesn't feel like hobbling down the hall right now.
Gerard makes an impatient noise and pushes his bag away. "Stop being such a brat, fucker," he says and walks over to the bed.
Frank looks up at him, unconsciously pushing into it when Gerard gets a hand in his hair. "I just--" he says, losing some of his irritation just from having Gerard close, warm and smiling.
"Shhh," Gerard says and kisses him.
He pulls away and grins at Frank's protesting noise, then he gets on the bed and sits, leaning against the headboard.
"Come on, asshole," he says warmly and gets Frank to sit with his back against Gerard's chest, leaning into him. Frank tries to get a hand between them (seriously, it's a hotel night), but Gerard holds him still. "Just sit for a minute," he says, and Frank settles.
They end up watching Ghostbusters, which is somehow always on, and Frank drifts off between one scene and the next, Gerard's arms anchoring him.