Glassy ⇝ Frerard | Incomplete, vvv slow updates

With a Gun and a Pack of Sandwiches

A/N: hiii. THE BOY IN THIS IS SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE BO BURNHAM. Why? Cos i love him so. If you guys don't know who Bo is, there is a pic ^^^. He's 6'6 and cute af.

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You can't have your cake and eat it too.

;;;

Gerard gazes upon himself in the mirror, much to his own dissatisfaction and Frank's excitement. Fucking gross.

"I hate this," Gerard comments, doing up the top button on his flannel shirt. He wishes the collar would shrink three sizes and it would choke him out. "I look silly."

Frank tisks, undoing the buttons Gerard has done up. The fifteen-year-old put him in a navy blue, grey and murky green plaid shirt that was actually Frank's but had to be extremely baggy on him. He wore a black shirt underneath, and another pair of khakis that went down to his ankles. They fit him nicely, Gerard had to admit. He could lay off the doughnuts for breakfast but he actually looked decent for once.

His hair was washed for the first time in a while and his skin was pale but clear from blotchy spots. Maybe it was from the small amounts of the sun he was getting or the fresh(ish) food he's been eating, but he had to admit that his skin was glowing quite nicely.

Gerard felt good about himself for once. As melodramatic as that sounds, he felt healthy and happy. His anxiety was minimal, his body didn't ache like it did back home and his nails rejoiced in God because they weren't being ripped apart by Gerard's teeth. He's felt better than he has in years.

Gerard whines. "Why do you get to look cool?"

Frank smirks at Gerard, staring down at his own outfit. Tight black jeans, bunched up around his ankles, a V-neck in a darker shade of black with an ashy, thick belt riding up his shirt. He paired it with destroyed black Converses. Frank looks at himself in the mirror, walking in front of Gerard. He runs his fingers through his tossed hair, combing it forward like bangs.

"You look great, don't worry!" Frank exclaims with a wide smile on his face. He proceeds to pick up a small, colorful bag off the counter in the washroom and pulls a small pencil out of it. He pops the cap off and drags it around his eyes loosely. It creates harsh, charcoal lines that he smooths out with the tip of his pinky finger. When complete, these mysterious, dark circles are formed, that looked good on Frank and about a week without sleep on Gerard.

Frank points at the smoke around his eyes using the pencil, turning in Gerard's direction. "Too much?"

Gerard bites his lip to keep himself from spewing too much. He nods silently, face turning its usual red. Frank purses his lips unsure, looking back at his reflection once again. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's cool." He clicks his gum at Frank, and the fifteen-year-old dusts himself off.

"Okay, let's go then." He sighs, grabbing his phone and slipping it into his pocket. Gerard grabs his own, knowing he'll need it eventually, and a pack of cigs that he bummed off the pool bartender. It was pretty illegal to give it to him, but it was also illegal to serve underage drinks, so Gerard assumed the man didn't care very much.

Frank catches the cigarettes in his line of view. "Nasty habit." He sing-songs in an unenthused voice.

The seventeen-year-old shoots the younger one a dirty look. "I know, alright? I'll try to quit when we get back home." He lies.

Frank rolls his eyes and walks out of the bathroom, grabbing a sweater off the floor and proceeding to the door. Gerard follows along, closing the door behind them.