Prompts, ideas, and unfinished scenes.

Close Enough

Unfinished one-shot, the rest of this basically led into smut and then Frank got a little too attached, not wanting to admit it until he realized that Gerard was also way too attached. Enjoy!

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Frank crushed his cigarette into the concrete with his shoe, seeing the strange man next to him twitch awkwardly. Frank hadn't met this guy yet, but he wasn't surprised. It was hard to actually meet anyone in this particular club, because the place was a total shit-hole in the wall. It was only really good for picking up easy girls and sometimes drunk guys, if they were too far gone to care if they were kissing someone of the opposite or same sex... And the drinks, of course, were always amazing, because Frank knew the the bartender and sometimes did sexual favors in return for free drinks.
The obscurely attractive stranger next to Frank ran his right hand through his messy, unkempt hair- his left hand was busy curling into the bottom hem of his thin leather jacket, clutching tightly at the worn fabric.
Frank shifted his weight to one foot, the one closest to the guy, wiggling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He thought about asking for a light, but that'd be obvious and trying too hard, because hell, this guy had just seen Frank light a cigarette a few minutes ago.
So Frank tried something that he only saved for the really pretty ones.
"Cigarette?" he offered, flipping the pack open and angling it towards the stranger.
The man faltered, hazel eyes wide. "Who? Me?"
Frank nodded, slightly. "Cigarette?" he repeated, too interested to say much more.
Now that Frank could see this man in full light, his pale face turned towards him, he wanted even more than before to have an excuse to make out with the guy.
"Please," the guy said, reaching his hand towards the pack. "Thank you. I'd been trying to figure out a way to ask."
Frank's fingers flinched away, though, moving the pack of cigarettes just out of reach, and the guy's face fell.
"Name first," Frank said. "And then cig."
"Gerard," he answered instantly. He tucked dark strands of black hair behind his ear, holding that same hand back out for Frank to shake. "Gerard Way."
Frank tried not to laugh, shaking Gerard's hand. "You're a rarity, Mr. Way," he decided, handing the man a cigarette. "Not many people here give out last names. Hell, I barely remember mine, sometimes."
Gerard placed the cigarette between his lips and then felt around his pockets, searching for something. "Honestly, I normally don't, but it's because- shit, do you have a light?- it's kind of the business I'm in, yknow?"
"Business?" Frank asked, producing his lighter from his pocket, lighting his cigarette first.
"Yeah."
Frank held the lighter in Gerard's direction and he held out the cigarette, excepting a flame, face falling slightly when none came.
"Tell me your business first," Frank said, offering a friendly smile. Frank hoped it was something really dirty, like, prostitution, or maybe even porn. Fuck, Frank really hoped it was prostitution or porn. "I'm curious."
Gerard laughed, raising his hands in a show of innocence. "It's nothing bad, I swear. I'm here for the music. My brother and I, we're trying to start a record label. Shitty clubs have a lot of weird bands play, it's a nice place to find the obscure ones that most people don't think will get big."
Frank lit Gerard's cigarette and he raised it immediately to his lips, closing his eyes for a short second and looking thankful.
"To tell you the truth," Frank said, only half-lying, "I'm here for the music, too. But why are you out here, then? The music is all inside, dumbass."
Gerard rolled his eyes, and then looked away, removing his cig halfway from his lips. "Shit with my brother and I, well- it's not exactly good right now, I sort of pissed him off. So I decided to grab some fresh air and a cigarette. What about you?"
Frank shrugged. "Cigarette. Fresh air." He laughed shortly, trying not to be too obvious. "Random hookup, maybe. If I get lucky."
Gerard's eyebrows rose. "Random hookups?"
"Yeah. Places like this are, uh- good for that. Because most everyone is a total freak in some sort of way, and, like, they don't care who you are or how you look, y'know what I mean? Not as long as you're a good fuck."
Gerard gave Frank a nervous smile. "You seem to know quite a lot about random hookups, man."
Frank just shrugged, smiling easily back. "Not much to it, I guess. Drunk chicks and drunk guys like it if you buy them drinks to keep them going, sober girls like it when you sit down and talk."
Gerard paused, looking indecisive before he asked, "What about sober guys, then?"
Frank's smile spread to a grin. "Cigarettes work every time, Mr. Way. Every damned time."
Gerard smiled.
Frank was trying to find something else to say- he kind of really just wanted to take advantage of Gerard right then and there on the sidewalk, do it rough and dirty and hard right in front of the club on top of concrete and crushed cigarettes; but Gerard looked too soft for that. Gerard looked soft, and smooth, and pale. He looked like a statue made of porcelain-colored downy, and Frank wanted to reach out and touch him, just to see if he shattered or squished.
Gerard nodded towards the club entrance. "Music is getting louder... Wanna go back in and check it out?"
Frank heard exactly what Gerard meant- the pulse of the bass was so loud they could hear it from the small, vacant smoking area outside.
"Sure." Frank decided at last second that Gerard was definitely what he wanted. "Promise to stick with me, though? I'm not a fan of being alone in small clubs like this," he lied, dropping his second cigarette on the concrete and crushing it with the toe of his old, beat up Converse.
Gerard nodded, offering an encouraging smile, mimicking Frank and crushing his finished cigarette. "Of course. Places like this aren't exactly the safest to be alone in, anyway."
They made their way into the shitty little club, Gerard holding the door for Frank like a true gentleman.
Frank could feel the bass pounding through the building, vibrating his stomach, and was hit with the sharp sent of booze and sex, and suddenly, he was inspired.
He saw Gerard eyeing the bar.
"Dance with me," Frank said. "I'll buy you a drink if you dance with me."
Gerard grinned. "I would've danced with you for free, motherfucker, but since you offered..."
Frank just laughed, and took Gerard by the wrist, pulling him gently towards the bar.
They ordered two drinks, Frank couldn't even be bothered to remember what they ordered, and then they submerged themselves into the crowd.
Frank didn't recognize the song that was playing, or even the band, and he recognized no other faces besides Gerard's and that of the bartender.
Frank didn't allow himself to get drunk. He had one drink- and then waters. But he didn't tell Gerard that, and Gerard didn't seem to mind, a bottle of beer in one hand and Frank's skin beneath the other.
Frank soon realized that while Gerard wasn't exactly the best dancer, he liked to do it dirty, close and touching and set to a steady pace, like sex. And of course, Frank did not mind this one bit. He just pressed his body a bit closer and leaned up, dragging his mouth across Gerard's skin, hot and warm and dropping open-lipped kisses up his neck.
They lasted maybe half an hour, before the craving that had set in deep in Frank's mind had grown to an unbearable size.
He nodded at the door. "Wanna get out of here?" he asked.
Gerard nodded. He'd had quite a few drinks, and had a nice buzz going, but he wasn't completely drunk, which pleased Frank, because he actually sort of wanted Gerard to be sober for the rest of the night.
They stumbled together back to the smoking area in front of the building, Gerard giggling a cute, high laugh, slinging an arm around Frank's shoulders. "Your place or mine?"
Frank giggled, too, feeling warm. "Mine. You can't drive anyway."
Gerard rolled his eyes, following Frank to Frank's car. "I'm not drunk," he said, stumbling and hoping Frank didn't notice.
"Yeah, but this is close enough."
"Not- not quite, not yet," Gerard said, and then his hands were on Frank's wrists, and Gerard's back was against the car. "Come here, c- come kiss me."
So Frank stepped closer, but he hesitated, because he had rules about kissing strangers. Nothing intimate, nothing that wasn't hormone-driven. He wouldn't kiss unless his entire fucking pelvis region was demanding it.
And he was horny, that was true, but Gerard's hips were warm and soft beneath his hands, and the way the man's dark hair framed his face was more haunting than hot.
"This is close enough," Frank said, quietly.
Gerard gripped his wrists harder. "C'mon, I wanna fuck."
And, yeah, okay. Frank wanted to fuck, too. But fucking didn't seem close enough, not yet.