(c) That's So Fetch (PG-13)

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(c) That's So Fetch (PG-13)

Post by rock and/or roll on Mon 15 Jun 2009, 8:34 pm

Title: That's So Fetch
Author: Smashed Pumpkin
Rating: PG-13 for swearing and sexual references
Pairing: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Type: One-shot (split into two posts)

Frankie wants a make-over.
Gerard offers to be his hair dresser.

(Written for a Movie Slash comp on mibba. My movie was Mean Girls.)

That's So Fetch.

“I want a make-over.”

Gerard looked up from his Cheetos packet, dustings of artificial orange framing his chin. It would have been quite impressive if it’d been hair, or even stubble, because his inability to grow anything remotely resembling a beard was a bit of a downer, but it wasn’t to be. And Frank thought he looked positively adorable with the crumbs covering a good quarter of his face (or maybe it was an eighth – Frank wasn’t all that great with fractions).

There were sticky spit-and-Cheetos smudge marks up Gerard’s thighs too, but his jeans were pretty crappy anyway, so he didn’t seem to care so much. And Frank didn’t care either, especially seeing as there happened to be a hole near the groin area and every time Gerard moved forward on the couch, he’d stare at it and forget what their conversation was about.


“What?” Frank tore his eyes away from the tiny patch of pale skin taunting him and actually looked at his boyfriend’s face. He looked a little if not a lot confused and curious as he sat there, the television flashing colours in front of him.

“You said something about a make-over..?”

“Yeah, I want a make-over...like how they give the strangely attractive ugly girl a make-over in teen movies and suddenly the jock guy wants to bang her.” Frank tugged a little on his fringe, feeling sure that Gerard was staring at him like he was insane or at least a little bit peculiar, and he really just wanted his oversized hoodie to eat him.

“You want a jock guy to bang you?” Gerard’s eyebrow was raised to an impressive height, because really, he’d known little Frank Iero for five years now and he felt a little hurt that he was only just finding out about this weird-ass kink.

At least his was normal.

“No. Jesus.” Frank rolled his eyes. “He’d probably spend all his time talking about sport and training, and then I’d probably feel unloved and unappreciated, so I’d go off and start a mini-affair with his best friend, who totally gets me because he’s a closet Misfits fan, but hasn’t told anybody because all his friends listen to rap and boybands.

“And then the first jock guy would find out and they’d start this major fight for my love, and I’d feel really bad for ruining their friendship. So...no. Oh” – he bounced slightly on the armchair- “and dating high schoolers is so...high school.”

Gerard snorted a little; Frank’s tangents were better than primetime television sometimes. Who needed CSI or the Bold and the Beautiful when you could get tragedy and romance straight from Frank’s imagination? “So...why the need for beautifying?”

A scowl met his words. “It’s not beautifying, Gerard. I’m already sexy shit, thank you...and you saw what happened yesterday. That dude was flirting with me, okay. He probably would’ve asked me for my number if you’d of let me stay just a little longer.” Gerard didn’t remind him that sales assistants were required to be friendly – he just smiled and listened intently, Cheetos packet crinkling under his fingers.


“I just need a change, so I don’t feel so...eh. I can do so much more with my appearance, you know?” He chewed on his finger skin thoughtfully. “Your appearance can say a lot about you.”

“What do you want yours to say?”

“I want it to say ‘I’m Frank Iero. I’m sexy and you know it and I’m also interested in current affairs and literature and music, so feel free to start an intelligent discussion with me... but I’m already in a committed relationship and nothing will happen between us so keep your hands to yourself, thank you.’”

Gerard quirked his brow again. He did that a lot really, especially when it came to Frank and his out of the blue ideas and slightly off key theories. “You want to say all that with your clothes?”


“You’re really asking a lot of a few bits of material...”

“Well...I guess it doesn’t have to say all of that, just as long as people get the whole ‘I’m sexy but I’m taken’ thing.” He frowned a little, no doubt mentally pondering various different clothes designs.

“Right...so what kind of look are you going for?”

“Something zany, something cool but a little different.”

“Leopard print?” Gerard suggested, jutting out his lip a little in thought.

“No, that’s just ugly and the real stuff is murder and the fake stuff’s stupid.”

“So I guess you’ll be against that material that looks like monster fur?” It was Frank’s turn to quirk his brow (after all, ‘Oscar the Grouch’ wasn’t exactly the look he was thinking of), but he was nowhere near as accomplished at it as Gerard was – it took practice. “How about a leather jacket? Fake leather of course. And you could change your lip ring to a bar for a bit...and redye your hair a different colour.”

Frank pounced on Gerard like he was a designer jacket at a half-price sale.

“...I knew there was a reason why I spilled that drink on you on purpose so I could have an excuse to see you again when I gave you back your dry-cleaning.”

Gerard still looked a little startled from the unannounced invasion of his personal space, but petted the younger man’s hair affectionately.

“Yeah yeah, I think you’re pretty cool too.”


Frank ended up buying three different shades at the drug store that afternoon. He figured that a few choices would be nice, and he’d just sell whichever boxes he didn’t use to his younger cousins for a discounted price. But when Gerard saw the boxes, he got a little excited and proclaimed that he’d turn Frank’s hair into a masterpiece with the Passion Red, black and the pre-lightening kit.

“Black, red and white. They’ll go together really well.”

“You sure you’re up to this?” Frank sucked his lip ring into his mouth, and fiddled with it a little. He loved the creative gleam twinkling in Gerard’s eyes, but his hair was kinda...on his head for all to see. “I don’t want my hair to look like some funky collage, yeah?”

“Honey, I am at art school. I can handle it.”

“Hair dye’s a little different from paint though.”

“And paint’s a little different from pencil, but I can still create with both.”

“Fair enough.” But he still looked a little uncertain and Gerard sighed, placing his hands firmly on the younger man’s shoulders – which consequently made Frank fold in on himself just a little as he sat on the edge of the bathtub.

“Frankie, I did Mikey’s. It’ll be fine.”

“But Mikey only had one colour.”

“Which makes dyeing yours more fun. Now here.” He padded over to the hamper in the corner and pulled out a ratty towel, throwing it in Frank’s general direction – it kinda hit him in the face which wasn’t all that cool because it smelled like mould and old socks. “Put that around your shoulders and I’ll start with the pre-lightening kit...it’ll be way easier that way.”

Frank sighed into submittal and draped the towel over his old and faded Ghostbusters t-shirt like requested. There was no stopping Gerard’s artistic flair when he got like this. The room began to reek of fumes as Gerard pierced the tube with the colourant in and mixed it with the developing solution, making Frank scrunch up his nose a bit, like a bunny. But Frank liked to think that he was cuter than a bunny (when in reality he knew that he could never compete with the adorably fluffy creatures).

He braced hands on knees, a little like a woman with horrendous period pain, and waited in anticipation as Gerard fought with the plastic gloves.

Gerard won.

“Why they make these gloves such a weird shape, I’ll never know.”

He eyed his gloved hands suspiciously while his fingers wiggled as best they could in the synthetic constraints.

“You should write an angry letter to the company. Maybe they’ll give you free dye as compensation and to keep you from suing. Look” – Frank picked up the empty box and peered at the writing on the side – “there’s a number for a comment line here. You could ring up and complain.”

“I’ll live.”

“Good.” He replaced the box on the cluttered countertop, next to an almost used tube of spearmint toothpaste and a dried out and cracked bar of soap – Frank found it interesting because it looked like a rock and wouldn’t let Gerard throw it out. “I didn’t really want you to complain anyway...they could ban us from buying their products ever again, and I like their colours the best.”

Gerard just smiled and picked up the mixed solution.

“Kay...you ready to become a work of art?”

“Give me your best.”

Gerard placed a quick kiss to Frank’s crown, as a sort of goodbye to his natural hair colour and got to work. He squeezed the bottle and the dye came out like mayonnaise. As he worked his fingers through Frank’s hair, lathering all the dye over his scalp and every strand, Frank thought that it felt a bit like sex for his head...in that it was sticky and felt nice. He wanted to purr a little and maybe lean back into Gerard’s touch, but that could possibly start a mental debate on whether he was cuter than a cat, so he resisted and simply enjoyed the gentle massage. Now he understood why people bought those stupid looking Octopus head massagers.

“Kay, that’s all in.” The movements stopped and Frank titled his head back a little to see Gerard peeling off the sticky gloves. “Oh, you have a bit on your forehead there.” He wiped it off with a corner of the disgusting towel. “Got it...and there’s some around your hairline too, but you can just wash it off when you’re in the shower, ‘cause I might wipe the dye off some of your hair otherwise.”

Last edited by Smashed Pumpkin on Tue 10 Nov 2009, 4:10 pm; edited 2 times in total (Reason for editing : checked:sheep)
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Re: (c) That's So Fetch (PG-13)

Post by rock and/or roll on Mon 15 Jun 2009, 8:34 pm

They passed the required forty minutes developing time sitting at the kitchen table and discussing whether they’d rather date Johnny Depp or Ewan McGregor.

“Johnny looks better with a beard...” Frank argued. “So I say Johnny.”

“But Ewan was Obi-Wan, so that automatically makes him awesome.” He smirked a little. “And he really knows how to use a light saber, if you know what I mean.”

Back in the bathroom, Frank bent over the shower stall and let Gerard spray the extendable nozzle through his hair. Gerard pursed his lips a little as the younger tried to turn his head up and catch a glimpse of his drenched fringe.

“Frank, would you stop looking? You’ll get it in your eyes.”

“Well, how does it look?”

“It looks like blonde. Shut your eyes.”

The red went on the left side, and the black on the right with various exclamations of “I wanna see” and half-hearted bitchslaps to Frank’s back and debates over whether Gerard would make a prettier woman than Angelina Jolie. (Frank said no.) When everything was done, the bathroom looked like a barren wasteland littered with crumpled instruction pamphlets, cardboard boxes, developer and colourant bottles and those inconveniently shaped gloves that Gerard despised.

“Okay, okay you can look,” he sighed, letting go of an overexcited and slightly apprehensive Frank.

The younger man flung himself in front of the mirror and stared, and Gerard hadn’t seen him so wide-eyed since they’d watched Signs together. (“Eh, Mikey already spoiled the ending for me,” Gerard had shrugged when he saw Frank’s expression. “It was alright, I guess.”)

“Frankie, do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s...” He cautiously reached up a hand and touched his still damp hair, running it over the red. “It’s really bright.”

“Yeah, but it’s bold too. I thought that’s the kind of thing you wanted.”

“It is. It is, really. I’m sure I’ll get used to it even- what the hell is that?”

Gerard struggled not to giggle like a schoolgirl on helium as Frank frowned confusedly at his reflection. “Gerard, is that...is that a fucking G? Did you dye a G into my hair?”

“Um...no? Maybe it just diffused from your brain and into your hair because you think about me so much. I don’t blame you, Frankie. I mean, I am me after all.”

Frank stood melded to the tiles for a moment, rubbing irritably at the black G that stood out like a branding mark against the red. That was it. Gerard had fucking branded him like he was cattle or an item of clothing that he really liked and didn’t want Mikey to steal whenever he was over.

“I could throttle you with one of those developer bottles right now,” Frank grumbled, and turned to glare at his boyfriend.

“Well...maybe now sales assistants will know not to flirt with you.” He grinned. “And it’s not so bad, Frankie. I think it’s quite nifty actually, quite...fetching.”

“No, I look fucking stupid.” The younger crossed his arms and huffed a little, leaning against the counter. “God Gerard, what the fuck?”

“Just a bit of fun,” Gerard muttered, his reply a little muffled as he bit his lip.

“Well, it’s stupid.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re stupid.”

“That was uncalled for,” Gerard frowned, but he had his lips pursed just a little too much for him to be seriously offended.

Frank just grunted like one of those wild pigs that run around woods and gore people, and turned back to the mirror, frowning in a frustrated fashion at the small patch of black against red. He supposed if you were far enough away, it’d just look like a circle and that wasn’t so bad. Yeah, it looked okay and his hair wasn’t even completely dry yet so it’d probably look better then. He sighed and caught Gerard’s eye in the mirror – he was making those apologetic puppy dog eyes that just said take me home, keep me and care for me.

“I guess it’s not too terrible,” he muttered, a little resignedly.

“It’s going to grow out so fast anyway,” Gerard grinned, a plan obviously forming behind the deceptively innocent expression, “and then I can dye it something really crazy like...like leopard print! That’d kick ass, and I bet I could even recreate your scorpion tattoo, black on red. How about it?”

Frank shook his head, his expression finally light and happy and relaxed to compliment Gerard’s frenzy of creativity and weirdness. “You’re never going near my hair again unless we have Mikey around to restrain you. Though...come to think of it, you’d probably be able to overpower him...so...we’d need a qualified group of Gerard-restrainers, handpicked by me because you might infiltrate the group otherwise and brainwash them.”

“...are you seriously this obsessed over your hair? It’s just hair, Frank.”

“Oh really.” Frank quirked an eyebrow – he was getting better at this whole eyebrow-quirking business. “So, if I were to shave off your hair while you’re sleeping unawares and dreaming peacefully about Batman and Wolverine rooting or whatever it is you dream about...you’d be cool with that?”

The elder stuck his tongue into his cheek, and pondered (and geez, mention one dream about superheroes getting close, and suddenly that’s all you dream about). “Would you shave off my eyebrows too?”

“Of course.”

“No. Definitely not.” His eyes widened and he backed a little towards the door, looking like he expected Frank to whip out the razor and attack his poor defenceless eyebrows any second. “Don’t get any ideas, Frank. You leave them out of this.”

“Why Gerard?” Frank smirked, tongue poking through his teeth. “It’d look so...fetching.”

Gerard just sighed in defeat and scratched at the back of his neck. “Okay Frank...I’m sorry I Gerard-ified your hair. It’s your hair and it wasn’t my right, even though it does look awesome and I’d be surprised if every sales assistant in Jersey wouldn’t want to screw you. But...if you spare my eyebrows I’ll...I’ll let you be on top when we do it tonight...if we do it tonight.”

The younger man’s expression morphed from contentment into excitement and he lunged at his boyfriend, getting water all over the other man’s shirt, but Gerard didn’t care. His eyes just bulged a little at the once again unannounced personal space invasion.

“I wasn’t really going to shave off your eyebrows, you know,” Frank giggle-whispered.

“I figured.” And Gerard sighed again (he was really making a habit of it), but he was smiling, and just hugged Frank as his shirt got drenched. “I can’t believe you acted this crazy over your hair, but you were okay with me eating some of your cousin’s wedding cake before they actually cut it.”

“Well...it’s not like it was my cake.”

“Fair enough.”

Frank smiled and twisted his fingers into Gerard’s hair, lowering the older man’s head so he could place a kiss on his cheek. It made Gerard feel all gooey inside, like those caramel-centred chocolates that Frank bought him for Valentines last year – they got kinda melted in the car, and became a weird shape when Frank froze them but it was still a nice gesture.

“I’d like to cash in on that deal now.”

Gerard just smirked and pushed Frank in front of him and out the door. The G stared back at him as they walked, and his smirk became just that little bit more pronounced as they reached their bedroom and slipped inside into its slightly messy but homely warmth. Because Frank really was his. He didn’t need it written all over him (or printed into his hair, rather) but it was still nice to be reminded.

Frank turned back to him as the door closed with a slight whine.

“You really do look fetching, Frank,” and he bit his lip.

“Shut up, Gerard.”

Last edited by Sheepy on Thu 25 Jun 2009, 12:22 am; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : checked:sheep)
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