fic: the wonders and undiscovered joys of the Dewey Decimal system (MCR bandslash, 1/1)
This is totally not my fault. I just want to get that clear up front.
the wonders and undiscovered joys of the Dewey Decimal system
By Gale
SUMMARY:
Me: No, seriously, Frank is really fucking pretty. God, *please* tell me someone's done an AU where Gerard and Frank are in a Catholic boarding school and they secretly meet up in the back of the library and make out, hands clutching each other's waists while they kiss softly and talk dirty to each other under the watchful eye of God.
xoverau: It's one thirty in the morning Christmas, and I have to be to work by eight AM, and I wasn't going to even sign in to LJ, but in fact I was hurled there by the desire to go OMGUHWIBBLEDROOLPRETTY over [that] and offer to write you just about anything your heart could desire in exchange for THAT FIC.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: This is what happens when you watch the second video for INOK several dozen times in a row, and certain people, who I will not name but their initials are xoverau and
beatpropx, enable me, which is totally cheating because of my fondness for high school AUs.
“Tell me again,” Frank says, peering down from one of the shelves, “why you’re doing this.”
”Because it’s detention,” Gerard says patiently, not bothering to look up. Frank debates chucking a book at his head, but he’s only got hardcovers handy. “And this keeps Mrs. Dobson off my ass. Get off the shelf.”
”It’s an old shelf,” Frank says, but obediently shoves himself backwards and plants his feet on the bottom shelf to balance himself. “It’ll hold me.”
”Yeah, and when it doesn’t, we both get a twenty-minute lecture on damaging school property and a phone call home, and maybe even suspended.” Gerard sounds unaccountably pissy, which is weird. Gerard doesn’t give a shit about damaging school property. Gerard *likes* damaging school property. Frank can count on one hand the number of desks Gerard hasn’t carved something into, and if pressed, what rooms they’re in.
“So?” Frank scoffs, swinging himself back to the ground. He really should be helping Gerard, but he just can’t bring himself to do it. Maybe later, when irritating him gets-oh, who is he kidding? Irritating Gerard never, ever gets old, not in the three years Frank’s known him.
”So,” Gerard says, looking at him, “if I’m suspended, there’s no way I’m going to be in the art show next month.”
Shit. Frank resists the urge to bang his head against the wall, but it’s close. “Fuck. I’m sorry, man. I wasn’t-“
”It’s fine,” Gerard says, and when he ducks his head again, Frank knows he’s lying.
“No it’s not,” Frank says. He ducks around Gerard and takes a couple books off the stack. “How many of these do we have left, anyway?”
Gerard looks at him for a long minute, then looks over Frank’s shoulder and nods towards the front of the library. Frank glances back - and holy shit, there are, like, four more fucking carts full. *Full.*
”It’s a good thing we don’t have plans,” he says without thinking.
“Or lives,” Gerard adds, but when Frank glances up, he’s trying really hard not to smile. Frank feels something in his stomach unknot at that, because yeah, they’re stuck inside reshelving books when they could be doing *anything else ever*, but A) Mr. Wallace never found those frogs they busted out of the bio lab, and B) they’re not suspended. Things could be worse.
“Shut up,” Frank mutters under his breath, but he’s grinning when he says it. There’s no way to be serious on a day like this, when he’s stuck in the library with his best friend and everyone else is gone, and no one, not even Mrs. Dobson, is in a position to see him-
He turns suddenly and tilts his head, kissing Gerard on the mouth.
-- well. To see him doing *this*.
Because good boys don’t do this, not at all, and certainly not with other good boys; though Frank’s pretty sure if anyone were to call Gerard a good boy in his hearing he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. He’d probably just burst out laughing, but there’s always the tiny outside chance he’d deck someone, especially if that someone was one of the assholes on the field hockey team.
Like field hockey’s so fucking impressive. It’s regular hockey without skates. Croquet, now, that’s - okay, Frank sort of thinks it’s bullshit, but it *does* require skill, and something about the way Gerard looks when he’s concentrating and lining up his shots makes Frank’s stomach twist up in a way that the cheerleading team’s never really managed. Or how he gets all intense and focused when he’s sketching, or - hey, this is new - how he tastes, a little smoky and a lot sweet, and how all of those things have gotten tangled together until it’s just now, just this: Frank and Gerard, kissing in the library, Gerard’s hand touching Frank’s waist for a second before darting back, like he thinks Frank’s going to fucking yell at him or something.
”No,” Frank says, not moving away from Gerard’s mouth, “no, it’s - it’s okay.”
”Yeah?” Gerard sounds startled, a little.
“Yeah, are you kidding? It’s fucking great,” and that makes Gerard smile, sort of, so Frank kisses him harder. He *has* to. Gerard just had a fucking facial expression. That’s the sort of thing that should be celebrated, like a goddamn national holiday or something. Or maybe just a blowjob.
…Except, right, school library. Private school library. Where they’re serving detention. That’s the shitty thing about spur-of-the-moment decisions: no back-up plan.
On the other hand, Mrs. Dobson can be counted on to go for a smoke break at some point, and that’ll be good for a good ten, fifteen minutes. Frank can totally work with that.
He doesn’t know what’s going to happen when the clock switches over to three-forty-five; or this afternoon, when Ray gives both of them rides home in his third-hand Taurus and Frank’s crammed in the too-small backseat with Gerard and Mikey; or how he’s ever going to meet Mikey’s eyes again, because there’s never been a good way to keep the Hey, I Just Made Out With Your (Insert Sibling Here) expression off his face, and Mikey’s better - or worse - about reading faces than most people, and God knows Gerard can’t tell a lie to save his life.
But right now, all of that seems very far away. It’s not even two yet, and Mrs. Dobson won’t look up from her Harlequin novel unless someone bothers her, and this late in the day that seems almost impossible.
And she’s due for a cigarette any minute now, so Frank counts it as a win and smiles against Gerard’s mouth and reaches up to loosen his tie.
*
So. My first finished fic in this fandom. Huh.
Also, I am now plagued by the idea of telling the *entire story* of this AU, up to and including the part where we meet Mikey’s ex-boyfriend Pete, who’s in charge of the school’s AV department and his three friends OH GOD KILL ME.
the wonders and undiscovered joys of the Dewey Decimal system
By Gale
SUMMARY:
Me: No, seriously, Frank is really fucking pretty. God, *please* tell me someone's done an AU where Gerard and Frank are in a Catholic boarding school and they secretly meet up in the back of the library and make out, hands clutching each other's waists while they kiss softly and talk dirty to each other under the watchful eye of God.
xoverau: It's one thirty in the morning Christmas, and I have to be to work by eight AM, and I wasn't going to even sign in to LJ, but in fact I was hurled there by the desire to go OMGUHWIBBLEDROOLPRETTY over [that] and offer to write you just about anything your heart could desire in exchange for THAT FIC.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: This is what happens when you watch the second video for INOK several dozen times in a row, and certain people, who I will not name but their initials are xoverau and
beatpropx, enable me, which is totally cheating because of my fondness for high school AUs.
“Tell me again,” Frank says, peering down from one of the shelves, “why you’re doing this.”
”Because it’s detention,” Gerard says patiently, not bothering to look up. Frank debates chucking a book at his head, but he’s only got hardcovers handy. “And this keeps Mrs. Dobson off my ass. Get off the shelf.”
”It’s an old shelf,” Frank says, but obediently shoves himself backwards and plants his feet on the bottom shelf to balance himself. “It’ll hold me.”
”Yeah, and when it doesn’t, we both get a twenty-minute lecture on damaging school property and a phone call home, and maybe even suspended.” Gerard sounds unaccountably pissy, which is weird. Gerard doesn’t give a shit about damaging school property. Gerard *likes* damaging school property. Frank can count on one hand the number of desks Gerard hasn’t carved something into, and if pressed, what rooms they’re in.
“So?” Frank scoffs, swinging himself back to the ground. He really should be helping Gerard, but he just can’t bring himself to do it. Maybe later, when irritating him gets-oh, who is he kidding? Irritating Gerard never, ever gets old, not in the three years Frank’s known him.
”So,” Gerard says, looking at him, “if I’m suspended, there’s no way I’m going to be in the art show next month.”
Shit. Frank resists the urge to bang his head against the wall, but it’s close. “Fuck. I’m sorry, man. I wasn’t-“
”It’s fine,” Gerard says, and when he ducks his head again, Frank knows he’s lying.
“No it’s not,” Frank says. He ducks around Gerard and takes a couple books off the stack. “How many of these do we have left, anyway?”
Gerard looks at him for a long minute, then looks over Frank’s shoulder and nods towards the front of the library. Frank glances back - and holy shit, there are, like, four more fucking carts full. *Full.*
”It’s a good thing we don’t have plans,” he says without thinking.
“Or lives,” Gerard adds, but when Frank glances up, he’s trying really hard not to smile. Frank feels something in his stomach unknot at that, because yeah, they’re stuck inside reshelving books when they could be doing *anything else ever*, but A) Mr. Wallace never found those frogs they busted out of the bio lab, and B) they’re not suspended. Things could be worse.
“Shut up,” Frank mutters under his breath, but he’s grinning when he says it. There’s no way to be serious on a day like this, when he’s stuck in the library with his best friend and everyone else is gone, and no one, not even Mrs. Dobson, is in a position to see him-
He turns suddenly and tilts his head, kissing Gerard on the mouth.
-- well. To see him doing *this*.
Because good boys don’t do this, not at all, and certainly not with other good boys; though Frank’s pretty sure if anyone were to call Gerard a good boy in his hearing he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. He’d probably just burst out laughing, but there’s always the tiny outside chance he’d deck someone, especially if that someone was one of the assholes on the field hockey team.
Like field hockey’s so fucking impressive. It’s regular hockey without skates. Croquet, now, that’s - okay, Frank sort of thinks it’s bullshit, but it *does* require skill, and something about the way Gerard looks when he’s concentrating and lining up his shots makes Frank’s stomach twist up in a way that the cheerleading team’s never really managed. Or how he gets all intense and focused when he’s sketching, or - hey, this is new - how he tastes, a little smoky and a lot sweet, and how all of those things have gotten tangled together until it’s just now, just this: Frank and Gerard, kissing in the library, Gerard’s hand touching Frank’s waist for a second before darting back, like he thinks Frank’s going to fucking yell at him or something.
”No,” Frank says, not moving away from Gerard’s mouth, “no, it’s - it’s okay.”
”Yeah?” Gerard sounds startled, a little.
“Yeah, are you kidding? It’s fucking great,” and that makes Gerard smile, sort of, so Frank kisses him harder. He *has* to. Gerard just had a fucking facial expression. That’s the sort of thing that should be celebrated, like a goddamn national holiday or something. Or maybe just a blowjob.
…Except, right, school library. Private school library. Where they’re serving detention. That’s the shitty thing about spur-of-the-moment decisions: no back-up plan.
On the other hand, Mrs. Dobson can be counted on to go for a smoke break at some point, and that’ll be good for a good ten, fifteen minutes. Frank can totally work with that.
He doesn’t know what’s going to happen when the clock switches over to three-forty-five; or this afternoon, when Ray gives both of them rides home in his third-hand Taurus and Frank’s crammed in the too-small backseat with Gerard and Mikey; or how he’s ever going to meet Mikey’s eyes again, because there’s never been a good way to keep the Hey, I Just Made Out With Your (Insert Sibling Here) expression off his face, and Mikey’s better - or worse - about reading faces than most people, and God knows Gerard can’t tell a lie to save his life.
But right now, all of that seems very far away. It’s not even two yet, and Mrs. Dobson won’t look up from her Harlequin novel unless someone bothers her, and this late in the day that seems almost impossible.
And she’s due for a cigarette any minute now, so Frank counts it as a win and smiles against Gerard’s mouth and reaches up to loosen his tie.
*
So. My first finished fic in this fandom. Huh.
Also, I am now plagued by the idea of telling the *entire story* of this AU, up to and including the part where we meet Mikey’s ex-boyfriend Pete, who’s in charge of the school’s AV department and his three friends OH GOD KILL ME.