It’s a little like the good cop bad cop routine, rewards and punishment. Except it’s only him and Frank, handcuffed to the chair, and well, Gerard never was very good at playing nice. FRERARD O...
Cops and Robbers
He should have known. He should have fucking known as soon as he saw his smug little face filing past his desk and into the back. He should have known way before that, actually, what with all the tricks he just knew Frank was pulling, with just how careless he’d gotten. He was so clumsy, so arrogant in his art that he’d forgotten his basic training. And so Gerard should have fucking known it was only a matter of time before he got caught. Somewhere inside he guesses he probably did know, but presuming something is going to happen and having to interrogate your mafia lapdog boyfriend are two respectably different affairs.
It’s a little like the good cop bad cop routine, rewards and punishment. Except it’s only him and Frank, handcuffed to the chair, and well, Gerard never was very good at playing nice, not even on his best days. This is one of his worst nights.
“My night in shining armour,” Frank sighs, tipping his head back against the metal seat and smiling lazily at Gerard, “You ready to go?”
Gerard raises an eyebrow, leaning forward with his palms laying flat on the interrogation desk. He’s got something under his skin, itchy and annoying, he needs to scratch it on something, rub someone up the wrong way. He stares at Frank, sitting relaxed and cocky, the cat that got the fucking cream, Gerard thinks.
“That’s what you think I’m here for?” He asks, cocking his head to the side in question.
“Uh” Frank drawls, “Yeah”
Gerard laughs, pushing his palms off of the desk and using the force to get back into a fully standing position. Frank has been playing far too close to the edge lately. It has to stop.
“Oh what? You shootin’ for the right side of the law now? Hurry up, motherfucker and unlock me!”
Gerard stalks around the desk as Frank talks. With so many of the force working for Bryar the interrogation room is built a little differently to the others in the state. There’s no two-way mirror, there are no cameras. Just Gerard and Frank.
He folds his arms in so that his hands are fists just above his hips, elbows sticking out like chicken wings, his back curved over to leer down at Frank. “You can’t just pull shit like that and get away with it. There has to be justice, Frankie”
“And let me guess,” Frank slurs, “It’s swift and all powerful?”
Gerard slaps Frank across the face, twisting his neck to an uncomfortable angle and re-opening the cut on his lip, forcing a pained grunt from his throat. He regains his composure and scowls, spitting blood to the floor. It doesn’t do much; his mouth is scarlet, like lipstick.
“Even working for the man you’re fucking crooked,” Frank bights, flipping his head in vain to get the hair from his eyes.
“You have to stop” Gerard says, “pulling this shit. Not every cop in the city works like me and Toro”
He cups Frank’s jaw to inspect his busted lip. It’s nothing bad, it will heal, no scars. He holds Frank’s eyes for a modicum, blazing and beautiful, and then kisses his ruined lips, running a hand up into his hair to tug his head back. Frank makes a small sound in his throat and takes it, Gerard’s tongue exploring all along his molars.
“Officer,” Frank says once Gerard has freed his mouth, breathless and wicked.
“Prison is a not a place you want to be” Gerard tells him, wiping a thumb over Frank’s cheek with a hum.
“I’ll tell you anything you want officer,” Frank scoffs, “Just don’t send me away” He rolls his eyes.
Gerard curses and kicks the table with his regulation boot, jolting the bolts holding it down on the floor.
“You’re not listening to me” he growls, “Things are getting too close”
“No, I’m listening Gerard,” Frank nods earnestly, “You’re just talking shit. Every cop in this town is a crook, no one’s sending me anywhere”
“You don’t know that,” Gerard insists, crouching down so that he can see eye to eye with Frank, he can feel a vein pulsing in his neck, hot and rapid. “There are other gangs, other forces all looking to get your scrawny ass behind bars”
“You wont let them”
“I might not have a choice”
Frank yanks on his restraints, the metal clanging loudly on the chair, his arms straining as he pulls. “Fucking unlock me, Gerard!”
“Shut the fuck up” Gerard hisses.
“Why are we doing this?” Frank asks, “I mean, at home I get it but this isn’t fucking funny, Gee”
Gerard stares at Frank for a long moment, taking in his big brown eyes and mussed up hair, swollen lips. He wouldn’t last two minutes in a joint; he’s too fucking small and pretty. He kisses Frank again, not as rough this time and then presses their foreheads together, breathing onto Frank’s face. “I love you so much, Frankie” Frank closes his eyes and tilts his face so that their noses are rubbing, skin hot and right. “I can’t loose you”
He goes to undo the cuffs, straining to reach round with the key. Frank stops him, pushing his neck into Gerard’s neck and muttering, “Don’t. I mean, leave them on”
Gerard’s stomach swoops violently; his pulse hammering had through his veins. They shouldn’t, not at work.
“C’mon,” Frank whines, “Gee”
“Yeah” Gerard says, moving his flustering hands from the cuffs to the back of Frank’s neck, fingers feathering through his long hair.
Frank moves his face back up so they can kiss, little pleased noises escaping through his lips as Gerard’s skate over them.
“They wont get me, Gee,” Frank whispers, “I’ll be careful”
The interrogation room is cold and sterile around them, harsh lights and silver faces. Outside the night is pitch, all sirens and no-goods chasing tale like cat and mouse. The world is full of bad people, scared and ugly, greedy, vermin and killer cops, crooked and hiding in the shadows. There are other gangs and there are other cities but Gerard’s been around long enough to pick his way.
Gerard presses closer into Frank’s warm skin and sighs, “I know, Frankie”