Fic: Much-Needed Comfort
Aug. 15th, 2009 05:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
silentdescanttitle: Much-Needed Comfort
pairing: Frank/Gerard (gen)
rating: PG
words: ~670
summary: Gerard helps Frank out.
disclaimer: Not true at all; I'm not connected to any members of MCR and I'm making no money from this.
a/n: This is for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
giddy_london, and it's set in our 50s AU'verse where Gerard is an actor nobody takes seriously and Frank is an assistant who can't catch a break. Unbetaed.
“You stupid fucking kid!” the director shouts, knocking the steaming coffee right out of Frank’s hand. It spills over them both, scalding hot and ruining the man’s silk tie. “Get the fuck off my set! And you—” he whirls on Gerard, waving a finger threateningly. “Take five.”
“I can go again—” Gerard says quickly.
“No. Take five. And when you come back, fucking do it right, Way. Fuck! Suzanne! Get me another fucking tie!”
The director stalks off in search of his assistant and Frank finally lets the air out of his lungs. The coffee is soaking through his shirt—his last clean one, and payday’s not until Friday, so he doesn’t have money for the Laundromat—and Frank is well aware that he’s trembling like a leaf in front of Gerard Way, but he can’t quite force himself to run away.
“I’m sorry about him,” Gerard begins in a soft voice that nonetheless carries well. He has such a nice voice. Frank turns to look at him and is surprised by the flush on Gerard’s pale cheeks. “He shouldn’t have yelled at you; you didn’t deserve that.”
“You didn’t either,” Frank replies.
“No,” Gerard says, before Frank can continue. “I messed up, it was my fault. I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Frank brushes the apology off with a casual wave of his hand. “Can I get you anything? A drink, coffee? Anything?” he asks hopefully. He pulls at the hem of his shirt to get the fabric unstuck from his skin. He should probably change, but he doesn’t have a spare shirt. At least, not one that’s less stained and smelly.
“You don’t have to do that,” Gerard says, raising a hand like he could make a drink magically appear. He probably could.
“It’s really no problem.” Frank looks down at his dripping hands and past them, to the paper cup and the puddle on the floor. “I can do it right, I swear.”
“I know you can.”
“It’s not even my job,” Frank continues miserably. “The coffee runners don’t even like me. I’m not good enough for them.”
Gerard takes a step forward and pulls Frank out of the puddle by his sleeve. “What do you do, then?” he asks, and Frank can tell he’s only being polite.
“I don’t have a real job. I’m a PA. I just do whatever people tell me and nobody even notices. I could be a grip, I can grip things…”
“Being a PA is a good way to get noticed, though,” Gerard says in an overly-earnest, encouraging tone that Frank, quite honestly, thinks is condescending. He knew Gerard would be an asshole in person. Nobody can be that amazing without some kind of huge character flaw.
“Nobody fucking notices me because I fuck up all the time,” Frank snaps back. “I can’t even get the right coffee orders. I’m going to get fired.”
“Your name’s Frank, right?”
Frank’s shocked enough that he looks up and meets Gerard’s gaze. He’s more than just polite, Frank realizes. He’s every bit as earnest as he seems, and it’s comforting. Frank nods yes.
“I’m Gerard—”
“I know. I mean—shit. I didn’t mean to sound… I just know because you’re an actor,” Frank explains hurriedly, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“It’s fine,” Gerard says with a crooked smile and one shoulder lifted in a slight shrug. “I just don’t assume. I’m not really very good.”
“You’re the best actor here,” Frank says earnestly, and it’s true. “You just have a bad part. You’re amazing, though, I promise. The director’s just an asshole.”
“Well, that, I agree with,” Gerard replies. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”
Gerard wraps one hand around Frank’s bicep and moves to pull him along, but Frank stays where he is. “I don’t have another clean shirt,” he says. “It’s fine, there’s just a few more hours today.”
Gerard pauses, then reaches for Frank’s hand. “C’mon, Frankie. You can borrow one of mine.”
fin.
pairing: Frank/Gerard (gen)
rating: PG
words: ~670
summary: Gerard helps Frank out.
disclaimer: Not true at all; I'm not connected to any members of MCR and I'm making no money from this.
a/n: This is for
giddy_london, and it's set in our 50s AU'verse where Gerard is an actor nobody takes seriously and Frank is an assistant who can't catch a break. Unbetaed.“You stupid fucking kid!” the director shouts, knocking the steaming coffee right out of Frank’s hand. It spills over them both, scalding hot and ruining the man’s silk tie. “Get the fuck off my set! And you—” he whirls on Gerard, waving a finger threateningly. “Take five.”
“I can go again—” Gerard says quickly.
“No. Take five. And when you come back, fucking do it right, Way. Fuck! Suzanne! Get me another fucking tie!”
The director stalks off in search of his assistant and Frank finally lets the air out of his lungs. The coffee is soaking through his shirt—his last clean one, and payday’s not until Friday, so he doesn’t have money for the Laundromat—and Frank is well aware that he’s trembling like a leaf in front of Gerard Way, but he can’t quite force himself to run away.
“I’m sorry about him,” Gerard begins in a soft voice that nonetheless carries well. He has such a nice voice. Frank turns to look at him and is surprised by the flush on Gerard’s pale cheeks. “He shouldn’t have yelled at you; you didn’t deserve that.”
“You didn’t either,” Frank replies.
“No,” Gerard says, before Frank can continue. “I messed up, it was my fault. I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Frank brushes the apology off with a casual wave of his hand. “Can I get you anything? A drink, coffee? Anything?” he asks hopefully. He pulls at the hem of his shirt to get the fabric unstuck from his skin. He should probably change, but he doesn’t have a spare shirt. At least, not one that’s less stained and smelly.
“You don’t have to do that,” Gerard says, raising a hand like he could make a drink magically appear. He probably could.
“It’s really no problem.” Frank looks down at his dripping hands and past them, to the paper cup and the puddle on the floor. “I can do it right, I swear.”
“I know you can.”
“It’s not even my job,” Frank continues miserably. “The coffee runners don’t even like me. I’m not good enough for them.”
Gerard takes a step forward and pulls Frank out of the puddle by his sleeve. “What do you do, then?” he asks, and Frank can tell he’s only being polite.
“I don’t have a real job. I’m a PA. I just do whatever people tell me and nobody even notices. I could be a grip, I can grip things…”
“Being a PA is a good way to get noticed, though,” Gerard says in an overly-earnest, encouraging tone that Frank, quite honestly, thinks is condescending. He knew Gerard would be an asshole in person. Nobody can be that amazing without some kind of huge character flaw.
“Nobody fucking notices me because I fuck up all the time,” Frank snaps back. “I can’t even get the right coffee orders. I’m going to get fired.”
“Your name’s Frank, right?”
Frank’s shocked enough that he looks up and meets Gerard’s gaze. He’s more than just polite, Frank realizes. He’s every bit as earnest as he seems, and it’s comforting. Frank nods yes.
“I’m Gerard—”
“I know. I mean—shit. I didn’t mean to sound… I just know because you’re an actor,” Frank explains hurriedly, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“It’s fine,” Gerard says with a crooked smile and one shoulder lifted in a slight shrug. “I just don’t assume. I’m not really very good.”
“You’re the best actor here,” Frank says earnestly, and it’s true. “You just have a bad part. You’re amazing, though, I promise. The director’s just an asshole.”
“Well, that, I agree with,” Gerard replies. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”
Gerard wraps one hand around Frank’s bicep and moves to pull him along, but Frank stays where he is. “I don’t have another clean shirt,” he says. “It’s fine, there’s just a few more hours today.”
Gerard pauses, then reaches for Frank’s hand. “C’mon, Frankie. You can borrow one of mine.”
fin.