He really is a beautiful boy, Gerard thinks to himself, watching the smaller man dance about the floor. His back was to the counter and his weight was resting no his elbows. He stares at his friend from the bar, beer in hand and black shaggy hair falling in a black halo around his head. His russet eyes were surrounded with bright red eyeliner and eyeshadow, nearly matching his burgundy shirt. A black tie reaches down to the hemline of his black jeans, fitted as if they were made for him. Ripped up chucks cover his feet, that of which are lightly tapping along to the bass vibrating in his chest.
Frank, or, Joan Jett Black, as he goes by in drag, makes his way over to Gerard, grabbing his hands and pulling him onto the dance floor.
“C’mon, Gee!! You said you’d dance with me!” Frank begs, putting his bottom lip out in a pout, his lip ring shiny in the lights. Gerard laughs and shakes his head, leaning down so he can talk into Frank’s ear over the music.
“When I’m drunk, I’ll dance when I’m drunk. That’s what I said.” The raven haired man smirks at his companion, eyes landing on his lips. Stained or not, he still wants them for his own. He clears his throat and Frank watches as Gerard leaves the dance floor, returning to his space at the bar. As much as Frank wants to join him, the music captures his mind once again, and he loses himself in the deafening songs.
Gerard watches from a distance, occasionally sipping his beer. He watches as Frank’s blonde wig moves with every movement he makes, as if it was his own hair. He remembers how this hole drag thing started, almost two years ago, now.
They were on the tour bus, drunk as can be and on an adrenaline high from the show. Laughter and celebration was taking place, as they had just been offered to sign to a bigger label, one that would fund their next album. Gerard and Frank had already written most of the songs, and all were eager to get back into the studio. But tonight, they party.
He doesn’t remember who it was, but somehow, they began playing truth or dare. Dare’s were constantly flying, and, because of the alcohol, the level of confidence was through the roof for all of the boys. Frank, barely 22, was taking dares left and right and completing them all as asked. Suddenly, Mikey, Gerard’s younger bother, fires the newest dare to their short companion, and Frank’s mouth drops.
“I dare you to…to dress in drag n’ go to a club!” His words were slurred, yet somehow understandable, and everyone cheered, but Frank went quiet.
“What?” His heart was racing, and he didn’t know why. He glances over at Gerard who is giggling and feels his face flush red.
“You ‘eard ‘im!! Go get dressed, pretty boy!” Ray, the older guitarist of the band, shouts, and another round of cheering is heard. Frank, not being one to back down from a dare, stands up, trying not to stumble over his own feet.
“What’m I gonna wear?” He doesn’t realize how drunk he is until now, and quickly regrets saying dare.
“’Aly’s gotta dress back in the closet… yerr both little…it’ll fit…”
Ever since Frank looked in the mirror that night, make up on and all dressed up, he discovered a confidence he never knew he had, and a side of him he hadn’t discovered before. Now, as he swayed to the music on the dance floor, he felt, well, lonely. The one person he wanted to dance with him, wouldn’t.
He glances over at the bar, seeing his raven haired friend take another sip of his beer, and frowns. He leans down and takes off his heels and walks off the dancefloor and over to his best friend.
“Hey, Gee…” Gerard turns and looks at him, a dim smile on his features. “Ready to go?” Frank studied him. His eyes looked hollow and broken and his smile was weaker than he remembers. Gerard’s eyes flash with confusion after Frank’s question.
“Are you sure, Frankie? I mean uh…Joan Jett Black?” Frank giggles at Gerard’s words and nods.
“Yeah, I’m sure. The person I came to impress isn’t interested anyways.” Frank replies, watching Gee’s lips as he mouth’s an ‘oh’. He fiddles with the beer in his hand, which is still half full, and turns to Frank.
“I’m ready if you are.” Frank smiles and follows his friend out of the club and outside into the night. The air is chilly and Frank can’t help but shiver as they begin the few blocks walk to their hotel. Suddenly, Gerard’s jacket is around Frank’s shoulders, and Frank is in shock. He looks up at the taller man questioningly.
“Gee-“ Gerard was smiling as he spoke, interrupting Frank.
“Frankie, if I were cold, I wouldn’t have given you my jacket. Besides, I couldn’t let a lady freeze!” They both laugh and Frank playfully punches his shoulder, rendering a few more moments in silence. It’s not awkward for them, as they care so much about each other, just being in their company is usually enough.
“How come you never dance? I mean, I know it’s a gay bar but…” Frank’s voice trails off. How cliché’, he thinks, he’s going to a gay bar dressed as a woman to impress a straight man whom he knows will never be his. Frank looks up once more, studying his friend. The way his nose was slightly tilted upwards, and the way his lips danced to form words. The way he got lost in his own world when he was writing or drawing, and the way everything about him made Frank’s heart flutter. He knew he only dressed in drag for Gerard, but lately, he’s been getting less and less attention from his friend.
“I’m not really the dancing type…and when I’m drunk enough to dance, I usually make a fool out of myself…” He replies gently, laughing under his breath. “Why do you think you don’t impress anybody there? There’s always tons of eyes on you.” Frank glances up at Gerard as he takes off his wig, shaking out his faux hawk.
“Eh, not really… the one guy I like will never notice me anyways.” His voice was quiet as he replies, and he can’t bring himself to look at Gerard, who is giggling again.
“Don’t you mean girl? You are a certifiable lesbian now, Frankie. You’re a queen who likes other queens.” Gerard keeps laughing at his own jokes, and Frank tries to laugh along, but his heart’s in another place. Why does it hurt so bad tonight?
“What about you? Any girls in your sight?” Frank’s voice was weak now, his confidence slowly fading. When he was Joan Jett Black, he was confident and sassy, but Frank was, well… insecure, even if he acted otherwise. Gerard snorts at Frank’s question.
“Girls? In my sight? Ha! I’d be lucky if anybody even looked my way.” Gerard lights a cigarette, and Frank knows it’s a touchy subject for him. Ever since his last relationship, he’s been very against the whole couple matter.
“Why do you think that way, Gee? You’re a handsome man. You’re nice, you’re funny, you’re talen-“
“Stop it, Frank.” Gerard snaps and Frank flinches. “Don’t say that. Now, go get changed in the bus or whatever. I’m going to bed.” His voice came out as a growl and his demeanor changed drastically and it worried Frank. He watches his friend throw his cigarette away, then vanish into the hotel lobby. With a sigh, Frank makes his way to the tour bus and de-drags, soon feeling like his old self again, insecurities and all. But tonight, like a million other times before, the only thing he cared about was the raven haired man who stole his heart without knowing it.