No Sir, No Dancing Today
Title: No Sir, No Dancing Today
Pairing: (future) Frank/Gerard
Rating: PG
Beta: cda_cdj Thanks for the quick beta!
Summary: When Frank voices this opinion Gerard very earnestly tells him that all forms of dancing are equal and a wonderful form of self-expression. Frank supposes that he's right.
Disclaimer: Never happened, not mine. Don't google yourself.
A/N: After listening to this radio interview, I couldn't stop thinking about kid!Frank in dance class.
Frank is four and a half years old and he doesn't like dancing. To be fair, he likes rocking out in front of the TV or to his favorite cassette as much as any other guy, but he doesn't like dancing. Unfortunately for Frank, his mother has a part time job at a dance studio and since the incident with the cat and the umbrella (it wasn't Frank's fault, okay?) Mrs. Smith from across the street refuses to watch him in the afternoons. Frank waved at her from the car yesterday when she was outside mowing the lawn, but strangely enough she didn't see him.
Since there is nobody to watch him, his mother has taken to bringing him along to the dance studio. She said it would be fun and that Frankie would make new friends. His mother is a liar. He has to wear stupid tights and a boring, itchy t-shirt and there are only girls around. Giggling girls wearing heaps of pink. Those are the kind that have the most cooties, Frank is certain. His friend Ray said so.
The teacher, Mrs. Ivanova, who has a very funny way of speaking, doesn't like Frank very much. Maybe it's because he ignores what she tells him to most of the time and instead hops around like he wants to. Or because he giggles when she sounds particularly funny. Or because he declared as soon as his mother ushered him into the classroom that ballet is stupid. Frank really doesn't know.
All he knows is that he doesn't want to go through another round of "Niet, Frank! Concentrate!" so when Mrs. Ivanova is busy correcting Amelie's posture he quickly slips out the door. Ah, the taste of freedom.
Frank's gym shoes slap against the linoleum floor as he runs down the hallway without a destination in mind. He's a little too fast when he rounds a corner and runs full speed into another boy.
That's how Frankie met Gerard.
Gerard who is seven and the coolest person in the universe. He's doing tap dance, which is so much better than ballet. When Frank voices this opinion Gerard very earnestly tells him that all forms of dancing are equal and a wonderful form of self-expression. Frank supposes that he's right. Gerard also has a little brother who's in the music class, but Gerard says he mostly plays the triangle.
That evening Frank tells his mother all about Gerard on the way home, followed by a very earnest confession.
"So, I've been thinking." Frank has heard a lot of adults say that when they're about to say something important. "I don't want to do ballet anymore. I wanna do tap dance."
Judging by his mother's sigh Frank hasn't been as subtle as he thought he was.
"Frankie, you know that even if you do change to tap dance you won't be in the same class as Gerard, right?"
Frank wrinkles his nose. That's a fatal flaw in his plan.
Eventually Frank doesn't change to tap dance but to the music class. On his first day he makes a beeline for the guy sitting in the corner with a triangle. "You're Gerard's brother."
The kid blinks up at Frank from behind his glasses.
"Yeah," he says eventually.
"Cool." Frank holds out his hand because that's what adults always do. "I'm Frank. I'm your new best friend." Frank is pretty certain that being best friends with Gerard's brother is going to be beneficial to his plan of marrying Gerard when he turns six. It seems like a good age for marriage.
Gerard's brother looks at his hand strangely for a second before he takes it.
"I'm Mikey."
He's holding a triangle in his lap and Frank nods at it approvingly. "I'm gonna play the guitar and be in a band when I grow up. We totally need a trianglist, it's gonna be awesome!"
Mikey looks down at the triangle before shrugging like he's absolutely down with fame and stardom and already over it.
After class Frank goes to watch Gerard dancing. He spends the better part of ten minutes peeking in through the door that he opened veeeery quietly, before Mrs. Henders, who is so much nicer than Mrs. Ivanova, asks him if he wants to come in. Frank slaps his hand over his mouth and giggles, before he shuffles into the room and sits down next to the stereo on the floor, grinning widely at Gerard.
As opposed to Mrs. Ivanova, Mrs. Henders also recognizes that Frank is meant for great things and makes him Master of the Stereo. He's allowed to press play and pause and stop and sometimes he even has to rewind the tape. Frank, clearly, is the most important person in the room.
He sighs dreamily just like the people in his mother's TV shows as he watches Gerard. Maybe Mikey can play triangle at their wedding?
Pairing: (future) Frank/Gerard
Rating: PG
Beta: cda_cdj Thanks for the quick beta!
Summary: When Frank voices this opinion Gerard very earnestly tells him that all forms of dancing are equal and a wonderful form of self-expression. Frank supposes that he's right.
Disclaimer: Never happened, not mine. Don't google yourself.
A/N: After listening to this radio interview, I couldn't stop thinking about kid!Frank in dance class.
Frank is four and a half years old and he doesn't like dancing. To be fair, he likes rocking out in front of the TV or to his favorite cassette as much as any other guy, but he doesn't like dancing. Unfortunately for Frank, his mother has a part time job at a dance studio and since the incident with the cat and the umbrella (it wasn't Frank's fault, okay?) Mrs. Smith from across the street refuses to watch him in the afternoons. Frank waved at her from the car yesterday when she was outside mowing the lawn, but strangely enough she didn't see him.
Since there is nobody to watch him, his mother has taken to bringing him along to the dance studio. She said it would be fun and that Frankie would make new friends. His mother is a liar. He has to wear stupid tights and a boring, itchy t-shirt and there are only girls around. Giggling girls wearing heaps of pink. Those are the kind that have the most cooties, Frank is certain. His friend Ray said so.
The teacher, Mrs. Ivanova, who has a very funny way of speaking, doesn't like Frank very much. Maybe it's because he ignores what she tells him to most of the time and instead hops around like he wants to. Or because he giggles when she sounds particularly funny. Or because he declared as soon as his mother ushered him into the classroom that ballet is stupid. Frank really doesn't know.
All he knows is that he doesn't want to go through another round of "Niet, Frank! Concentrate!" so when Mrs. Ivanova is busy correcting Amelie's posture he quickly slips out the door. Ah, the taste of freedom.
Frank's gym shoes slap against the linoleum floor as he runs down the hallway without a destination in mind. He's a little too fast when he rounds a corner and runs full speed into another boy.
That's how Frankie met Gerard.
Gerard who is seven and the coolest person in the universe. He's doing tap dance, which is so much better than ballet. When Frank voices this opinion Gerard very earnestly tells him that all forms of dancing are equal and a wonderful form of self-expression. Frank supposes that he's right. Gerard also has a little brother who's in the music class, but Gerard says he mostly plays the triangle.
That evening Frank tells his mother all about Gerard on the way home, followed by a very earnest confession.
"So, I've been thinking." Frank has heard a lot of adults say that when they're about to say something important. "I don't want to do ballet anymore. I wanna do tap dance."
Judging by his mother's sigh Frank hasn't been as subtle as he thought he was.
"Frankie, you know that even if you do change to tap dance you won't be in the same class as Gerard, right?"
Frank wrinkles his nose. That's a fatal flaw in his plan.
Eventually Frank doesn't change to tap dance but to the music class. On his first day he makes a beeline for the guy sitting in the corner with a triangle. "You're Gerard's brother."
The kid blinks up at Frank from behind his glasses.
"Yeah," he says eventually.
"Cool." Frank holds out his hand because that's what adults always do. "I'm Frank. I'm your new best friend." Frank is pretty certain that being best friends with Gerard's brother is going to be beneficial to his plan of marrying Gerard when he turns six. It seems like a good age for marriage.
Gerard's brother looks at his hand strangely for a second before he takes it.
"I'm Mikey."
He's holding a triangle in his lap and Frank nods at it approvingly. "I'm gonna play the guitar and be in a band when I grow up. We totally need a trianglist, it's gonna be awesome!"
Mikey looks down at the triangle before shrugging like he's absolutely down with fame and stardom and already over it.
After class Frank goes to watch Gerard dancing. He spends the better part of ten minutes peeking in through the door that he opened veeeery quietly, before Mrs. Henders, who is so much nicer than Mrs. Ivanova, asks him if he wants to come in. Frank slaps his hand over his mouth and giggles, before he shuffles into the room and sits down next to the stereo on the floor, grinning widely at Gerard.
As opposed to Mrs. Ivanova, Mrs. Henders also recognizes that Frank is meant for great things and makes him Master of the Stereo. He's allowed to press play and pause and stop and sometimes he even has to rewind the tape. Frank, clearly, is the most important person in the room.
He sighs dreamily just like the people in his mother's TV shows as he watches Gerard. Maybe Mikey can play triangle at their wedding?