Break the Law For Me [completed]

house of wolves

The sun -also known as Frank's sworn enemy- only ever burned him because he didn't tan, and, as a result, was pale as fuck. That was the main reason he loathed summer. Plus, it was way too hot for any living thing to function. What was he supposed to do when he overheated? Tear his skin off? At least in winter he could bury himself in fluffy blankets.

In classes, it was even worse. He'd be sitting there, boiling in art and too afraid to take his hoodie off, and Gerard would be sat there wearing as little as he could that coincided with the school's dress code. So far, he'd worn tank tops, sunglasses and shorts (once). Frank had the wide variety of different types of jumpers, jackets and long sleeved t-shirts.

Thankfully, God had laughed enough at his suffering, and had blessed them all with a storm. It was pouring with rain, there was the occasional jump-scare from thunder, though there hadn't been any lightning. Everyone had hoped school would have been cancelled. But nope.

With exams gone, the school day (for last year students anyway) now only consisted of career meetings, assemblies and discussions of options. All were completely tedious and nerve-wracking.

Currently, Frank was sat in 169a, gazing out of the window at the rain, and how the fields were beginning to flood. The sky was quite dark too.

"Do you think this'll last until night?" Gerard asked, pulling Frank back to the real world.

"Huh? Yeah, maybe." He turned to face him. "You like storms?"

"Sometimes." Peering out at the blackened clouds, he scrunched his nose.

"Why only sometimes?"

"'Cause, uhm, you know," he shrugged, glancing away, "They scare me."

"Aww." Frank grinned, that's so cute. Gerard sent him a confused look and he shook his head. "What is it about them that you don't like?"

"Loud noises." He tensed a bit, carding his fingers through his hair. "I-I don't really know; they just freak me out a little."

"How about I distract you?" He offered, tapping Gerard's thigh with his shoe as he propped his feet up on Gerard's lap, slouching back in his chair.

"How would you distract me?" Folding his arms over his chest, he was seemingly unfazed by Frank using him as a foot rest.

"Guitar?"

"Really?" A smile spread across his face.

"Yeah," he chewed his lip. "I never played you the song I wrote, so. . . Do you wanna hear it now?"

"Of course."

"Well," swallowing the lump in his throat, he fetched his guitar. He hurried about, hands already shaking slightly. "It's not very good, it's okay if you don't like it. I mean, I'm not the best writer in the world. And-and I'll probably mess up on the strings-" He went to walk back, but was stopped when he came in to contact with Gerard's chest. Smiling weakly, he glanced up, "Hi, there."

"You'll do great." Gerard beamed, taking Frank's free hand and squeezing it for reassurance. "Really, I don't mind if you mess up, I'll still love it."

"Thank you."

-

Although Frank's voice was constantly wavering, he managed to choke out the lyrics. It didn't help that Gerard was watching him, chin resting on his palm. Though he kind of liked being the centre of his attention for a little while, and soon it got easier to sing and to get his fingers to play the correct chords.

Frank was sat on a table, feet on a chair, and Gerard was seated opposite.

"That was. . ." Gerard murmured, gazing at him with such intensity as Frank faded his voice out. "That was fantastic."