The Used Yaoi Fanfiction
Quinn crossed his arms and scratched his skin until it turned red. Attractive. He nibbled on his lower lip and blinked too much. He tapped his right foot on the ground repeatedly. All of these things showed that Quinn was Nervous. And when Quinn was Nervous, things didn't go to plan. See, the plan was to casually approach Bert and ask him to point out where the chocolate sauce was kept. The theory behind that was that, if Bert was as much of a sleaze as Gerard had said he was, he would automatically equate chocolate sauce with sex and if he liked Quinn, (Quinn nibbled his lip so much it bled and his foot spasmed wildly) as Gerard had said he did, well then, he would blush and stutter like he had before. Therefore, Gerard said, Bert would automatically think of sex with Quinn. The problems that Quinn could think of (and yes, there were many) were, in order of importance;
1. What if Bert didn't like him and he made a fool of himself?
2. What if Quinn stuttered so badly he couldn't say 'chocolate sauce' and ended up asking for some completely obscure item like a toffee pineapple?
3. What if his foot spasmed so wildly he accidently kicked Bert in the crotch? That would surely be counter-productive.
4. What if he tripped and landed on him and accidently kissed him?
5. What if his girlfriend walked in while Quinn was (he suppressed a shiver) flirting with Bert?
6. What if his girlfriend walked in as he found out Bert didn't like him and made a fool of himself by asking for a toffee pineapple and kicking Bert in the crotch with his spasming foot and then accidently kissing him?
7. What if the plan actually worked and Quinn had evidence that Bert liked him and ...what if Bert wanted to go out? Or kiss him? What would Quinn do then? "Oh, I'm sorry Bert, but I can't kiss you because, even though I think you're crazy hot and sexy, I'm not gay. Sorry."

Well, Quinn thought. He would just suck it the fuck up. Then he had to go compose himself in the bathroom at the thought of sucking anything.
Ten minutes later, Gerard was picking the lock to the bathroom Quinn had hidden himself in. "Um, are you ok?" He called into the locked stall, and hoping to Burton it was Quinn in there and not some random stranger who thought he was much too helpful.
"No." A hoarse voice said and Gerard was relieved to recognise it as Quinn's.
"Why, what's up?" Gerard called, hopping up on the sink thoughtfully.
"Nothing! Nothing's up! Why would anything be up?!" Quinn shouted hurriedly. Gerard arched a well-groomed eyebrow and waited patiently for Quinn to come out.
Five minutes later and Quinn emerged sheepishly from the stall. He poked his head out the door and looked around. Not seeing anyone he moved out cautiously. Spotting Gerard sitting on the sink wearing a bemused expression, Quinn squeaked and fell over his shoe lace.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Gerard demanded, checking his watch. Bert would be lingering over by the frozen food aisle now. They had a schedule of where to go in the store to avoid Shadows' "unpredictable" checks and therefore, do as little actual work as possible.
"Nothing. Nothing. I just....accidently thought of-Never mind. I'm gonna go ask him now." Quinn took a fortifying breath.
Out in the hall, Quinn peered around the corner fearfully. Gerard stood behind him with his arms crossed in a bemused fashion. When Quinn put one toe around the corner and stuck tight against the wall (as if this would somehow render him invisible) Gerard had to say. "You would make the worst ninja ever." Quinn turned to scowl at him and, spotting Bert, Gerard took the opportunity to shove Quinn out into the aisle. Regretfully, he landed on Bert. "Oh my fuck, I'm sorry!" Quinn gabbled, jumping up off the startled boy. He put his hand out to help him up and then snatched it back in terror that he was being presumptuous. Then put it out again for fear he was being rude. Then pulled it back again in panic that he would actually have to touch Bert's hand. Which he held stuff with. Then put it back out in alarm of being rude. By some miracle, Bert didn't seem to notice, just hefted himself up off the ground. Gerard certainly noticed though, Quinn could see him mouthing incredulously "What the fuck are you doing, the hokey-pokey?" Wobbling his head and shoulders in a weird mix between an energetic shrug and a violent headshake, Quinn shuddered his way over to Bert.
Looking up, Bert finally realised who had knocked into him and went beet red. He just sat on me. How wonderfully delightful the store looks right now, he thought in a dazed fashion.
"Um, a-are you like...ok and stuff?" Quinn asked his shoes.
Bert went a deeper red and told the tiled; "I'm fffine, fine you ok?" He thought it better to talk in short sentences. Less chance for accidentally suggestive comments.
"Fine. Um could you tell me where the ..." I can't do this I can't sit on him and then ask him for chocolate sauce.  He looked back frantically at Gerard for assistance but he was nowhere to be found. "Cockolate sauc- Oh! I mean chocolatechocolatethe CHOCOLATE sauce!" Quinn shouted. Bert looked rather startled and for the first time in his life, Quinn turned on his heels and ran away.

Gerard snorted in hysterical laughter at Bert and Quinn. God, they were pathetic. Quinn couldn't even hold a conversation with him with getting embarrassed, and Bert seemed to blush more than he ever had in his whole life. It was pitiable. "Whatcha doin'?" A female voice asked and Gerard turned and promptly choked on his laughter. Coughing and spluttering, he felt Dean pat him on the back. Lovely, now he couldn't breathe and he was being patted like a dog.
Regaining his breath, Gerard stood up warily. "Nothin'. What's up?"
"Nothin'." Dean smiled. "Hey, guess what I just found out." She pointed a thumb back at the stock room. Gerard arched an eyebrow questioningly. She beamed. "I can do the splits. It's awesome; I never realized that I was that flexible."
There were no words. Gerard couldn't think of any. He could only think of the fact that he was slowly getting redder and redder and he may just pass out. Dean was still standing there smiling and Gerard was seized by the realization that he had no idea what to say to that. He had literally no clue if she was making (albeit strange) conversation or flirting with him. Therefore, he had no idea how to react. So, he said cautiously; "Is that so? That's really...something." He finished vaguely. Dean's smile diminished a little, and she made her excuses and walked off briskly.
Gerard chewed his lip, sure he had done something wrong, but not sure what.

Bert never really understood how when people fancied someone and spotted them eating an ice cream or some other lickable substance they 'd say wistfully ""Oh, I'd kill to be that ice cream."
Gerard was especially guilty of this. He never got that. No matter how good looking the person was, you were still being eaten. And not in the good way. Being digested. But now he thought he understood. If he had to be digested by anyone, Bert decided it would be Quinn.
As he daydreamed of the poor mortified-with-shame boy, Bert beamed at the store in general. Customers looked rather suspicious of the eyeliner-wearing-long-haired-scary-looking boy grinning at them. Suddenly, someone landed on his back. Long arms wrapped miserably around his skinny frame. "Gee? What's wrong?" Bert asked, hoping it was Gerard, and not Frank getting a little over adventurous in his advances. "Dean hates me."
"What? No she doesn't, silly."
Gerard nodded his bony chin into Bert's shoulder. Bert winced but didn't say anything. Last time he had, Gerard had flounced off shouting something about not having a pointy chin you short fucking.....fucker!
"She does. I dunno how to act around her, and I always mess it up. Although, honestly, why would you approach someone to tell them how flexible you are? Surely that's a little...suggestive?" Gerard asked desperately.
Cringing, Bert unwrapped Gerard's arms from around his neck and placed him gently on the floor.
"Yeah, there's something you should know..."