Gerard's face lmao

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Frank paced the carpet of the cheap hotel, glancing over at the killer on his bed every few seconds. He had panicked and taken Gerard here to contain him, somewhat surprised that he had captured him within three hours of beginning his mission.

The original plan had been to follow him closely, detect his agents and methods at the speech, figure out what he was going to do, and then cut him off. It was supposed to be difficult, despite what he had assured Lindsey. He had definitely expected some more resistance from the assassin, but Gerard was sticking with his I-know-more-than-you attitude, making it difficult to intimidate him.

He hadn't even really fought back that much, mostly just squirming a bit in Frank's grip.

Frank kept forgetting that Gerard wasn't an assassin in a typical sense. He didn't beat people up, or get in fights, or anything of that nature. He relied on smooth words and cunning weapons to get the job done for him, so when faced with an actual physical conflict, he was helpless.

Now the red-haired man sat on Frank's bed, tied against the headboard, his blue suit jacket still undone from the convention, watching him like he was the most fascinating exhibit.

"Y'know," he commented dryly. "I usually get to know people a bit better before I let them tie me to their beds." 

Frank stopped his pacing to look at his prisoner, hoping his cheeks weren't tinted too brightly.

He turned away and began pouring water in the coffee pot, mostly just to have something to do rather than the actual desire for coffee.

"It's not nice to ignore people," Gerard pointed out.

"It's not nice to kill people either, but that never stopped you," Frank snapped before he could think, getting extremely annoyed with his prisoner's behavior. Couldn't he just be normal and threaten Frank or bribe him to set him free?

Gerard shrugged, not looking the least bit upset.

"True," he admitted. "But I was getting paid," he pointed out. "You're just ignoring me for the fun of it."

"Yes, I am," Frank agreed, wishing the room had a TV that didn't produce a terrible whining noise that would shatter his ear drums (he had tested it out earlier), or else he could turn it on to maybe shut this man up.

Unfortunately, his uninspiring reply somehow inspired Gerard to speak even more.

"That's not nice at all," he continued, ignoring Frank's frustrated countenance. "You're being selfish and mean just to be mean, whereas I had a reason. And now here I am trying to have a normal conversation while you ignore me, so really I think you should be the one tied to the bed, not me."

Frank struggled to block out his words. He had never apprehended anyone who talked so damn much before. Usually criminals threatened him, or tried to be intimidating, before realizing that didn't work well on a CIA agent who had you restrained, then they moved on to bribing, convincing, and sometimes even begging.

Gerard just being plain annoying was grating on his nerves more than any other possible alternative.

"Aren't police supposed to be nice?" Gerard kept on going, firing off questions no matter the lack of reaction from Frank. "Are you even a police officer? Where are you from? Or are you the CIA? Or the FBI? Are there any more secret acronyms? Have you ever been to Area 51? Is that a real thing? Or is it like in that one movie with the aliens when it isn't actually 51 but some other number, and Area 51 is just the cover-up conspiracy for the actual conspiracy? Ooh, are you an agent? Agent Frank? Actually, it would probably be your last name, now that I think about it. Unless your last name is Frank. Is your last name Frank?"

It had only been about twenty minutes since he had taken Gerard into the hotel, and he already wanted to chop his ears off and shove them down his own throat.

"Do you ever shut up?!" he demanded.

"Not really," Gerard admitted with a shrug, then continued his meaningless questions.

"Be quiet," Frank ordered, trying to be threatening even though his prisoner hadn't reacted to it much.

"Make me," Gerard shot back, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Maybe I will," Frank said, mostly in an attempt to scare him.

"How?" Gerard asked, framing an eyebrow to convey his skepticality.

Frank got an idea, so he quickly proposed it, hoping it would maybe work to intimidate him.

"I could gag you," he suggested.

Gerard smirked.

"That's pretty kinky," he said.

Frank wished there was some way he could possibly stop his face from being so red. If he wasn't twenty-one years old and had a slightly cleaner mind, he probably would have brushed it off like spies brushed off unwanted hookups in movies, but he was only twenty one, and he couldn't be that mature while he had an admittedly (really) attractive man tied to his bed saying these things.

All he could think to do was turn away and pretend he didn't exist.

It turned out that that wasn't even the most awkward part of the night, not by a long shot.

Because Frank hadn't planned on finding Gerard so soon, he had of course only rented a one-bed room. Of course.

The singular chair beside the bed, not to mention the only chair in the place, was not an armchair or even remotely comfortable, honestly more like a dining chair than anything. There was no way Frank could sleep on that, and while he was tempted to get Gerard back for being so annoying, he knew if he couldn't sleep he would just keep Frank up with his questions, because that much was obvious in the few hours he had known him. The floor was also not very comfortable, and there wasn't really enough blankets to make it so, even if he used all of them and folded them up too. He could always just stay up, but he had done that the last two nights, and he knew his performance would be affected if he did so again.

As he considered his options, it became more and more undeniable about what he would have to do.

With a long sigh he took the keys out for the handcuffs and undid one of Gerard's wrists, unlooped it from the headboard, and clicked it around one of the wooden features. There.

Now that he had one hand free, maybe he wouldn't complain as much. 

Unfortunately, as soon as Frank informed him they would be going to bed, he began squirming uncontrollably.

He managed to get one arm out of his jacket, before realized he would never get it off the handcuff.

"Help me," he demanded, his free hand going to his red tie. When Frank just looked at him, he glared. "Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it is to sleep in a suit?"

Frank shook his head, since he did not in fact have that experience, and relented into helping Gerard undress partially. He wanted to make Frank take him to his room in a hotel across the city so he could get his clothing and things, but Frank couldn't do that. For one, he could have weapons hidden, and since Frank couldn't really walk around with a handcuffed buddy, he would be able to reach them easily. 

Besides, Frank would take all the revenge he could get.

In the end, Gerard ended up in the t-shirt he wore for some reason under his dress shirt, and was now trying to convince Frank to take his pants off.

"C'mon," he whined. "I don't wanna sleep in dress pants."

"Well, I don't want you to sleep in your underwear," Frank countered. Gerard apparently was negligent to the fact that they would be sharing  bed, so all of Frank's excuses revolved around being ready to leave quickly.

"No one's gonna find us," he protested. "I just wanna go to sleep."

Frank definitely knew that, not only because he had repeated it several times in the past hour of arguing and undressing, but because the more time he spent awake, the pissier he became. His eyes were falling closed more and more, but he kept kicking his feet, trying vain to get his pants off. He contradicted everything Frank said, even if he agreed, and then got upset when Frank pointed that out. It was the strangest and most nerve-grinding argument he had ever engaged in.

Essentially, he was acting like a three year old, and it was not enjoyable for Frank.

When Frank offered to let him use his own extra sweatpants, even though they would be a little short, he flat out refused, for no apparent reason other than the fact that Frank was solving the problem on his own and not letting Gerard do what he wanted.

Finally, Frank's own tiredness and his vexation with listening to this incredibly childish professional killer (not to mention zero experience with small children acting the way Gerard was) he agreed and undid Gerard's pants, too frustrated and tired to compute any awkwardness. After yanking them off, he threw the fabric on the ground beside Gerard's shoes.

He went to the bathroom to get ready himself, and in the five minutes it took to get back Gerard was already asleep.

Frank crawled into bed, pulling covers over them both and shutting out the lights, wishing he could have just picked up a normal assassin who didn't want his Batman pajama pants to sleep with, and just acted harsh and cruel to Frank.

Oh well, he thought as he sighed. At least it would be interesting.

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Hilo! I have returned from the abyss. This chapter is mostly just filler, I know, but it gave me plot ideas. I spent the last two days in a sleep-deprived sugar high, so not much writing drive. I did , however, come up with a new Frerard book idea, and I will publish it at some time. It's called Anomaly.

Anyway, thanks for reading, hope you have a good day, and I love you!

-Brightside⨂