"That faggot," Gerard spat, "...happens to be my best friend."
Gerard gripped Bert's arm all throughout the elevator ride. Nervousness filled every inch of his body, not leaving any room for pleasant emotions. He kept exchanging small glances Bert who gave reassuring smiles back. Yet, Gerard could not be convinced that this wouldn’t turn out horribly. He knew that even if Frank somehow didn’t find the drugs, he’d definitely be at Bert’s throat about the littlest things.
Frank leaned against the corner of the elevator, staring at the pair. He was not exactly pleased about the arrangement but he figured it was for the best. The closer he was to Gerard and druggy boy, the faster he could bust them. His eyes wandered, and then rested on Bert's duffel bag. He wondered what could be hidden beneath the nylon surface. He imagined explosives. Bert was probably just being nice to Gerard as a cover-up. If Frank left the two alone, Bert would take off the innocent mask and show his ugly, devilish side. He’d attach bombs onto Gerard, but the poor guy would be too blinded by Bert’s admitted charm to notice. And then—KABOOM! Bert’s evil cackles would echo as Gerard’s lifeless body fell limply to the ground. Frank shuddered at the thought. He knew he was getting a little carried away with the whole bomb thing, but he was probably somewhere close to the truth. If not on purpose, Bert could probably unintentionally kill Gerard with drugs and booze. Frank could already see them taking a toll on Bert. He didn’t want the same to happen to Gerard. He made up his mind to not let those two out of his sight until The Used and My Chemical Romance split up into their individual tours again.
The elevator doors slid open, following a little “Ding!” The three men began their walk to room 409. Gerard swiped the entry card with a trembling hand. The green light flashed and he was able to push the door open. He stepped inside, switching on the light. Immediately after setting his suitcase down, he noticed that there were only two beds. Feeling terribly embarrassed, he looked towards his two friends. Frank seemed to be horrified, while Bert’s face appeared amused. He ran his fingers through his wavy hair and stared at Gerard. Gerard wasn’t confident if he was hallucinating when he saw the guy wink at him. His heart was in knots.
Frank, on the other hand, was sure of the wink. He’d seen it and he hated the fact that Gerard’s face flushed a shade of red. With gruff motions he threw his bag to the wall and jumped onto the bed on the right. It wasn’t enough that he had to be stuck in the same room as Bert McConstrictor, no. He had to watch the stupid idiot share a bed with his Gerard. He’d have to suffer through the moaning noises that he was pretty sure Bert would make at night, just to make Frank turn green with envy. It made him sick. Sick and extremely pissed off.
Gerard sat down on the edge of the mattress and gazed up at Bert. The blue-eyed man grinned and tilted his head in Frank’s direction. Gerard looked to see anger in Frank’s emerald eyes. His jaw was clenched tightly and his arms were folded. Bert began to laugh hysterically. Gerard was tempted to laugh along. He never knew Frank liked him that much. He bit his finger, stifling a smile. The corner of Frank’s eyes drooped slightly and produced a sad, helpless look. It made the familiar guilt return to Gerard. He looked up at Bert, who instantly ceased his laughter. With a small blink, he signaled that it was time for Frank to leave. Gerard simply shrugged, unsure of how to get the small man go away. He didn’t want him to be too upset.
“Hey, Frank, mind leaving me and Gee alone for a while?” Bert asked straightforwardly.
“Yeah, I mind,” Frank replied in an equally candid voice.
“Aw, why?” Bert attempted to make the cute face that always worked on Gerard.
Frank was unaffected, “Do you think I’m stupid? If I leave, you’re gonna load my best friend with drugs and booze and lies until he goes mental, like you. All the world needs is another Bert McCracken.”
Bert’s eyes and lips narrowed. All caring emotions left Bert’s body. He hated intervention with his plans. He’d do anything to get what he wanted, even if it meant hurting Frank beyond a superficial extent. His mind acted quickly, formulating a plan. In order to get rid of Frank, he needed to attack right where it hurt a man the most. It was not the area where most people would cringe to think about. It was the heart. He knew, more than anyone else, that a broken leg could be mended over time while a broken heart stayed slightly torn for all time no matter how much duct tape was used to hold it together.
“Listen, Frankie,” Bert began innocently, “I know you hate me. I know you’re extremely pissed off since you have to room with me. I know you wish I’d just disappear off the planet so you could have Gerard all to yourself. And I’m sorry about all that. I think it’s completely unfair, though, that you start accusing me of things like making Gerard do drugs. And I also think it’s stupid that you think he can’t act on his own will. If you’re his best friend, how come you don’t trust him? You know you’re just making up stories in your head about me because you’re jealous. Why don’t you just leave us alone?”
Frank scowled at how close to the head Bert had hit that nail, “I’m not jealous and I’m not leaving. What you can do in front of Gerard, you can do in front of me.”
Bert laughed in a high, bitter tone, “Well, consider yourself warned, Iero.”
Gerard, who had zoned out during the conversation, was caught by surprise when Bert pounced on him. His eyes stretched wide as he fell back onto the bed. Bert’s lips moved quickly, furiously smothering him with kisses. Gerard felt hot blood rush to his face. He knew Bert was probably only faking attraction to get rid of Frank. Yet, a lightbulb that had been flickering on and off in his head for a long time finally shone brightly. It convinced him that what he felt for Bert were more than just friendly sentiments. And since he had this opportunity in which Bert at least pretended to like him back, he was going to take advantage. Any consideration towards Frank failed to enter his lust-provoked mind. He was in full-on Bert McCracken mode.
Frank had been nearly yawning when McCrackhead jumped on Gerard. It was a tactic he had been expecting. However, it pained him to watch as Gerard took it further. He stared in horror as Gerard’s hand reached the bottom of Bert’s shirt to slowly pull it up. Frank wanted to scream. Of course, he knew that Gerard liked Bert, everyone did. But he thought it had been just pure lust, like what Gerard felt for him. Gazing at the pair, he knew it was something else coming from Gerard’s side. Just the way he held Bert was completely different. It was loving, soft, gentle... It took Frank an enormous amount of determination to keeping himself from crying. He refused to leave the room; he knew the drugs would come out if he did. He looked down to his knees and squeezed his eyelids together. After only a few seconds, though, he automatically looked back up. His head stayed frozen in place and his eyes felt like invisible fingers were holding them stretched out. He just couldn’t gaze away.
It took Bert a moment to realize what was happening. His clothes had been stripped off and all he felt now—besides his boxers—was bare skin; burning hot skin that scalded into his own. The reason he’d let it get this far was simple; to get Frank out. Now, that didn’t seem to be working and Gerard was apparently getting other ideas. Yes, he liked Gerard a lot, but he’d never want to go all the way with a guy. It just seemed wrong. Quickly, he broke his lips away from Gerard’s and turned his head towards Frank.
“You’re a fucking pervert if you want to stay, Frank,” he panted.
Frank appeared to be paralyzed and unable to talk.
Bert felt like crying. It was either finish this mini sex scene or risk his drugs. He didn’t have to think twice to choose. His tongue pushed itself back into Gerard’s mouth, his hands crawling down involuntarily.
Frank knew when it was time to give up. Maybe they were just going to fuck if he left. Probably not, though. He didn’t really care anymore. He just couldn’t stand to watch.
“I’m leaving,” he said loudly.
Bert rolled off of Gerard, standing up and feeling relieved, but faking a large grin. Gerard sat leaning against the headboard, breathing deeply and blushing redder than a tomato. He was smiling.
Frank’s eyes welled up with rage in the form of tears, “Gerard, I don’t know how the hell you could do that to me. I thought you were my...I thought you...understood. Damn it, man, I don’t even know you anymore,” he shook his head, “Drugs are bad for you, Gee. Don’t let this faggot convince you otherwise.”
Gerard’s heart was pounding loudly. He rose from the bed, approaching Frank and avoiding Bert’s gaze.
“That faggot,” he spat rudely, “...happens to be my best friend.”
Frank’s mouth opened and snapped shut. Tears uncontrollably streamed down his face. Without saying anything, he turned around. Staring at his tears dropping onto the carpet the whole time, he walked—didn’t run—out the room. The door slammed shut behind him. His vision was clouded over as he hit his side to the wall. He slid down and buried his head in his knees.
Gerard’s shoulders moved up and down as he took deep breaths. His hands had formed into fists and he felt angrier than he knew he should. It wasn’t anger towards Frank, or Bert, or himself. Fury just wrapped around his body. He was mad at everyone and everything.
Bert hesitantly moved closer to him, resting a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, I’m glad I’m your best friend but that was pretty cold. I didn’t think Frankie would actually start crying. We should go apologize.”
Gerard spun around furiously, shoving Bert with all his might. Bert staggered backwards, hitting a table and falling. His blue eyes widened, seeing Gerard’s crazed expression. It wasn’t often that something scared him this much. But he gripped the wooden leg of the table out of fear.
“That guy is a fucking pansy!” Gerard shouted, “Just give me...my goddamned drugs.”
A shaky Bert stood up to walk towards his duffel bag. It took an unimaginable amount of time for him to actually unzip it. His trembling hands reached in.
Gerard walked closer, kicking Bert’s bag slightly, “What've you got for me, McCracken?”
Bert stared up, “Crystal meth,” he whispered.
Note: I've never really done ice, so I'm warning you that the next chapter(s) might be totally exaggerated.