A loud, constant knock to the dorm-room door was what brought Gerard to a very irritated and moody awakening. After huffing a few times and realizing that if he didn't answer the door, he would be in shit, he climbed out of the bed, wearing nothing but black baggy boxer shorts, and made his way to answer the door.
"The fuck do you want?" he grumbled, eyes half lidded while he ran his hand that wasn't perched on the doorknob through his major bedhead display of a morning hairstyle. He waited for a response, but when he noticed that he wasn't getting either one, he focussed his eyes on a very displeased dorm advisor standing stubbly in front of a young 'punk' looking kid. Well, I say 'kid' because the man standing behind the dorm advisor deemed to have the personality and style of a young teenager bopping around in high school and still attending local shows.
"I want you to be more welcoming, Gerard," he said. "Now, this is your new room mate, Frank." Gerard switched his view to the young man standing behind him. He was sporting a black (though it was faded out from use) hooded sweater, of course with the hood up. The hood had a single button pinned slightly off-center, shifting towards the right. He wore fairly tight jeans with a neon pink silver-studded belt, and also a Misfits patch sewn below a rip in the light blue denim. Gerard was fairly interested in the guy's choice of style, but was more intrigued by the black fingerless gloves with the green skeleton bones that shielded his hands from nothing.
It wasn't winter.
"Sup." The simple mix of two words blended into one gave Gerard a very biassed view on his personality. He imagined the Frank figure to be some what smug and very egotistic. Gerard merely gave the introduction of cocking an eyebrow before turning around to fetch some clothing to cover his nakedness. Not that he was ashamed, no, he just didn't want the new guy getting 'turned on' because of his 'hot bod', as he liked to put it. Gerard was quite the stuck up asshole, as you can probably tell by now.
"If Frank goes missing, you're getting the blame, Way," the advisor warned. It's safe to say that the warning alone gave Frank quite the uneasy feeling about his new roomy. On the other hand, Frank didn't have anything to worry about.
"Peachy," Gerard sarcastically remarked before pulling a Black Flag shirt down over his chest and sorting it out on himself.
Frank let himself in and laid his bags down on the floor next to the door. The advisor had left right away, probably not willing to see what kind of pissed off mood Gerard was in due to the sudden and unwanted invasion.
"You know, you could be a bit nicer," Frank commented, sounding rather blunt in Gerard's eyes. Gerard scoffed and glared over towards the foreign object standing in the living room area of his dorm room.
"You know, you could be a bit less existent," Gerard had commented in return.
Frank raised both eyebrows at the rather uncalled for comment that he had received. He mentally told Gerard off before stalking off to the empty bedroom, which in turn, wasn't as empty as expected. He came back out to find Gerard almost asleep on the couch.
"Gerard!"
Gerard sucked in a deep breath of air at the sudden call of his name. He glanced over at Frank and scowled to himself. "What do you want, now?" he asked, shifting around on the black leather couch and getting comfortable where the material was cold.
"Uh...a room, maybe?" he asked, picking up on Gerard's sarcastic ways pretty quickly.
"A wise-cracker, are we?" Gerard hissed, fluffing up his white cotton pillow and settling down to ignore Frank's pleas.
"Fine, I'll just move all of your art shit out into the hall."
"Touch my art shit and die."
Frank ignored Gerard's so-called 'threat', and gutted out his new room regardless. It wasn't like anything could have been done to him, it was his room, and he had the right to fit his own stuff in his own space. He was paying for residence, after all.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Gerard spat after the noise of Frank removing his items from the room and into the hall disrupted his sleep.
"I'm trying to clean out my room," Frank had retorted, chucking some old sketchbooks down on the floor, causing the papers to riffle out of them without a care. He walked over the pile of papers and continued to make his bedroom livable.
"Jesus Christ, you're so stubborn," Gerard had hissed, leaning over to pick up the precious papers of secret artworks that littered the hall.
"No, you're just an incompatible asshole," Frank snarled.
"Go get laid," Gerard hissed.
Frank cocked an eyebrow at Gerard's batty comeback. "Me go get laid? You're the one saying in Art History today that you wanted to get laid but it wasn't happening anytime soon."
Gerard stopped what he was doing and looked up at Frank, then down at his shaky hands. Frank's fingers played at the ravelling of his green and black skeleton gloves as his pale fingers deemed to have the fingernails chewed off. "But..." Gerard trailed off as he tried to recall that class. He eyed Frank suspiciously. "You're new...you weren't in my class then."
Frank stopped what he was doing with his gloves and looked up at Gerard, his eyes were wild, similar to a cat's when exposed to sudden darkness.
"W-well, I...yes, I was," Frank caught himself, stuttering over his own choice of diction. "I was just in the back, one of my first classes, Art History was," he explained.
Gerard just continued to eye him with a rather harsh look before letting it drift. Gerard wasn't the one to believe in any kind of supernatural bullshit, so no thoughts of anything actually occurred to him. He just figured he was that out of it in class that he didn't notice the new kid.