Summertime (Frerard)

52: It's Non-Existent, But We Just Keep Believing

"Fucking morning... ughh...." Gerard sighed out, his words muffled against the pillow he found himself facedown against and I couldn't help but let out a sleepy chuckle as he shifted in the sheets that we shared, leaving me with barely any covers at all, which was of course something that I was going to protest against.

"You've stolen all the fucking covers, Gee." I grumbled, my tone similarly muffled yet not quite as sleep deprived as his, as I was the one who didn't stay up to like four in the morning watch horror movies - okay, I had planned to, but I kind of fell asleep at like midnight, which was something that I knew Gerard would be laughing at me for just as soon as he gained some kind of conscious state and some kind of caffeine in his system.

"Yeah, maybe that's because you should get up and go make me some coffee and leave me to sleep here in the nice warm bed, and you can make me breakfast too as well, yeah? That sounds great, in my opinion-" I hit him over the head with a pillow at the point, drawing a grumble from his lips as he rolled over to face me: red hair falling over his face and sleepy hazel eyes looking up at me, and even like this, even with a maximum of four hours sleep, he still looked utterly beautiful.

And it was ridiculous, of course, I knew that all too well by now.

"Ow! What was that for?" He exclaimed, rubbing his head and somehow managing to convince himself that a fucking pillow had somehow hurt him.

"Being a little bitch." I grinned at that, pulling the covers off and perhaps just accepting that Gerard was extremely unlikely to just give up and let me go back to sleep for just five more minutes: he wanted his fucking coffee now, and he wanted me to make it and bring it to bed for him like the absolute fucking diva he was.

"Little?" Gerard snorted at that, a grin spreading over his lips, as he laid on his side, eyes open wide as he watched me get out of bed - still completely naked, leaving the memories of last night to come back to him, and his grin to only increase. Really, it'd be falling right off his lips any moment now. "If anyone's little it's you, Frankie."

"Are you talking about my dick there, Gerard Way?" I exclaimed, incredibly personally offended by his comment, and I totally didn't just shake it off and continue to pull on the first pair of jeans and shirt I found, which were both probably his.

"No, of course not." He smirked a little, and I couldn't help but flip him off, which was something that we could just about both agree that he overall deserved. "I'm talking about you in general - you're like four foot... Mr Baggins."

"Do you want that coffee or not, asshole?" I reminded him, eyebrows raised as I watched him turn over in the sheets again, pulling them over his head and burying himself like some sort of blank burrito, which I could even try to lie to myself about not being absolutely adorable.

"Fine, I'm sorry, Mr Baggins." He mumbled against the pillow, and really, hiding his head was a good idea, because otherwise he would have had another smack from a pillow coming his way.

"You're ridiculous - you know that, right?" I told him, and received nothing but a mumble and something vaguely resemblant of a 'fuck off' in response. "Take your pills as well, okay?" And I hated reminding him of it, because I knew all too well just how it made the both of us feel, and really, most of the time I just didn't want to, but he had to have them, and as much as I hated that, there was overall very little that I could do about it.

"Later."

"Gerard-"

"I'll take them when you've brought up my coffee, okay?" He snapped, pulling his head out from under the covers, just for the sake of glaring at me, and really, this day had got off on an absolutely excellent start.