Poison (Frerard)

Problematic Coworkers

Early the next morning, Bandit nudged open the door with her nose and meowed noisily to be fed. Frank's eyelids twitched but he still slept, her pitiful squalling eventually waking him. Gerard nuzzled closer to him and pretended to still be asleep, not wanting to leave Frank's warm embrace just yet.

"I know you're awake, Gee," the tattooed man mumbled against his neck, a soft chuckle in his voice. "Your heartbeat sped up."

"Shhh," Gerard whispered, finally opening his eyes. "I wanted you to stay here with me just a little longer."

"I know, I wish I could stay too," Frank said softly, unwrapping his arms from around his slim waist. He gently pecked Gerard's lips before climbing out of bed, goosebumps popping up on his arms. "But listen to her; you've got to feed her, Gee."

"I have to give you your shirt back, too, don't I?" Gerard asked quietly, standing up and walking over to Frank.

"Fuck, it's cold," he whispered to himself, the thin hairs on his legs standing up as goosebumps appeared on his milky skin.

"I could just borrow one of yours..." Frank suggested, a small smile on his lips. "You seem to like my clothes so much, I'd hate to make you give it back." He grabbed his jeans off the floor, slipping them up his legs.

"Um, fuck, nothing's clean," he mumbled, looking around at the clothes scattered on his bedroom floor. Bandit meandered over to him and rubbed her head against his ankles, loudly purring as a persuasion technique to convince him to feed her.

"In a minute, Bandit," he cooed softly, careful stepping over her and looking in the bottom of the closet.

"Uh, here," he said awkwardly, tossing Frank one of his sweatshirts. It was dark gray and simple, nothing but a tiny American Eagle logo stitched on the left side of the chest. The cuffs were stretched and darkened from years of wear, a smudgy black stain on the bottom of the right one.

"Sorry, all my t-shirts are dirty, and the few dress shirts are so fucking wrinkly," he mumbled, scratching behind his ear.

"That's okay," Frank said softly, slipping the comfortable piece of clothing over his head. It was a little big on him, the hole for his neck sagging low enough that his collarbones peeked out the top. "I'll just be in the recording studio today, so I don't have to dress nice."

"Come on, Bandit! Let's get you some breakfast!" Gerard said cheerily, grabbing a pair of panties off the floor and quickly slipping them on before heading out to the kitchen.

Gerard and Frank's goodbye was awkward and melancholy, neither man wanting to be separated from the other. Frank halted in the hallway and turned back to the door, raising his hand to knock before dropping it back by his side. Gerard sagged against the door, Bandit waltzing over and rubbing against his legs. He picked the kitten up in his arms, her purring sending vibrations through his chest. He faced the door, resting his hand on the knob. He eventually worked up the courage to open the door, calling out to Frank who was now almost at the stairwell.

"Yeah, Gee?" Frank called back, a sad smile on his lips.

"Um, I'll see you soon, right?" Gerard said awkwardly, his words failing him.

"Yeah, of course," Frank said softly, his mouth quirking apologetically. "Bye, Gee."

"See ya, Frankie," Gerard replied quietly, Bandit mewing as if she too were saying goodbye. He plodded back into his apartment, sagging onto the couch with a sigh. He pulled the tv remote out from under the magazines littering his coffee table, turning on his tv. The ancient, late 80's age television flickered to life, the lonely stripper curling up with his new kitten and watching shitty soap operas to pass the time until he needed to go to work.