FicWad

GPOV

Well, damn. That wasn’t how I expected that to happen. I was lying on the kitchen floor, covered in chocolate fondue sauce, with my arm curled around Bert’s waist. His hand was gripping mine tightly against his stomach, though I was pretty sure that he had fallen asleep.

The steady rise and fall of Bob’s chest against my back was making me tired, but I was still trying to remember how our fight of flinging pieces of shortbread covered in chocolate fondue sauce at each other had escalated to where it did.

Two Hours Earlier…

“What…?” I said, turning slowly around.

Frank and Quinn were standing next to the stove, Quinn stirring to chocolate sauce, trying to look innocent, and Frank standing next to him, with an ‘I went there and I’m proud of myself for it’ look on his face. I dropped my head to look at the piece of shortbread that had just hit the back of my head, on the floor, then back up at Frank.

“I love you.” Frank said as I took a step forward.

“Sure, you do.” I said, shaking the crumbs out of my hair.

“Hey, you guys, can I come in?” I heard Bob outside, he began beating on the door.

“It’s open, Bobby!” Quinn yelled.

“Bobby?” I questioned.

“Yeah, it sounded like a good name… in my head, where it was a minute ago. You dudes have no idea how many gallons of secondhand weed I have inhaled this week, Bert has been like ‘SMOKE GOOD’!” Quinn said.

I grinned, realizing that he wasn’t joking, Bert had problems with drugs, but that was okay by me, as long as he shared.

‘Bobby’ opened the front door, and walked into the kitchen, shaking rain from his hair; I threw up my arm to block the water from hitting my face.

“It’s really coming down out there,” Frank said, standing on his toes to see out the window above the sink. Quinn smirked, but caught Frank when he almost fell, and tried to catch himself on the chocolate-covered spoon in Quinn’s hand.

“Yep.” Bob said, taking off his soaking jacket.

“I hope Bert’s okay,” I said, going to look out the front window again.

“He will be, he’s a good driver, when he’s high.” Quinn said.

“Very true.” I said, thinking of Bert’s driving skills.

“Yup.” Quinn laughed.

“Who all is coming?” Bob asked.

“Me, Frank, Quinn, you, Bert, Pete, Brendon, and Jepha.” I counted off our names on my fingers.

“Sounds goods.” Bob said, sitting down and putting his feet up on the kitchen table.

“Get your feet off my table!” Frank demanded.

“Uh, your table?” Quinn asked.

Frank rolled his eyes, but moved to push Bob’s feet off the table.

“What the Hell, Pansy?” Bob shouted, trying to decide what to do with his feet now.

I giggled and looked over at Quinn, whose worried eyes were kind of freaking me the fuck out.

“He’ll be here.” I assured him.

“I know, I’m just worried, ‘cause it’s getting bad out. Bob, how were the roads?” He asked, stirring the chocolate.

“Wet, like everything else outside.” Bob shrugged.

Quinn frowned, and patted his pockets for his cell phone, finally retrieving it from a back pocket after groping his ass. He speed-dialed Bert, and put the phone to his ear, then nibbled at the spoon while it rang.

“Hey, baby.” He said after a moment. “Yeah, we’re all still clothed.” Pause. “Yeah, it must be a huge disappointment.” Pause. Nibble, nibble. “We can fix that, if you want.” Pause. “Pete and Brendon aren’t here yet, though.” Pause. “Yeah, blowjobs on the side of the road are kinda their thing.” Pause. “Niiiiiice.” Pause. “Oh, yeah? Well, I think we can handle that.” Pause. Giggle. “Mmhmm.” Pause. “Yeah, I’m all kinds of hot and bothered.” Pause. “Nah, Gee’ll take care of it.” Pause. “I love you, too. Be careful, baby.” Pause. “I know.” Pause. “Kay, see you soon. Bye.”

Quinn finally hung up the phone.

“So, what am I taking care of?” I asked, seductively.

“We don’t have any strawberries, you and Frankie need to go get some.” Quinn said.

“Oh, okay, yeah, Jeez, I forgot that buying tiny, red fruit was a two person job now.” I chuckled.

“Tiny, red fruits! Bahaha!” Bob roared in a fit of laughter, nearly falling over.

“Um, ex-squeeze me?” Frank said.

“Cherries!” Bob giggled, finally actually falling over.

We wished Quinn luck with dealing with Bob while we were gone, then Frank and I left the house, and walked quickly over to my Trans Am. After a brief squabble over who was driving I kissed him, leaving him temporarily speechless, hopped into the front seat and locked the door.

“Hey!” Frank objected. I giggled, then reached across the passenger seat to pop the lock on that door. Frank stuck his tongue out at me, then went around the car and got in.

“You suck.” He said, closing the door.

“No, you suck.” I said, starting the car.

“No blowjobs while I’m mad, I’d probably bite you.” He said.

“Kinky.” I commented, winking and backing out of the driveway.

“Yeah, but you’re not getting any.” Frank said, patting the now obvious erection in my skinny jeans. My hips bucked out to the touch, craving more. I pulled over, and removed the keys from the ignition, and shoved them into my boxers.

“You wanna drive, then you get to find the keys, and feel free to take your time.” I said, reclining my seat and putting my hands behind my head, thrusting my hips for effect.

He sighed, bit his lip, and glanced out the window, obviously deciding if he wanted to make me suffer more than he wanted to drive. He glanced back at me, then he sighed, shook his head, smiling slightly, and leaned across the space between the seats. He patted my crotch through my jeans until he found the keys, then shoved his hand into my jeans, and swiftly removed them. I whimpered quietly.

“Move.” Frank said, grinning widely in an ‘I win’ kind of way.

I frowned, then got out of the car, and stomped around to the other side. Frank just climbed across, and was finding the key to start the ignition as I got into the passenger seat.

He put the key into the ignition, turned it, and started driving again. I moped all the way to the store, plotting my revenge. Something that wouldn’t make him crash my car…

“That usually works,” I pouted.

“Uhuh.” He said.

“You are just the worst kind of person.” I moaned.

“Uhuh.” He said again.

“I really want to get sucked off.” I whined.

“Yeah? Well I really wanted to drive, so… eat me.”

“No! It’s not my turn.”

“Oh, so we’re taking turns now?” He asked.

“After my stunning performance this afternoon, I would think it would be only fair for it to be your turn.”

“Stunning?” He chortled.

“Deny it all you want, but you were screaming and cursing, and you wanted more, you wanted all I had to give, and I gave it to you, now it’s your turn.”

“You make a valid point, but… I’m driving.” He smiled sweetly at me. I leaned over, and bit his earlobe, working my tongue around the gauge in his ear.

Frank let out a half moan, half whimper and the car swerved.

“We need to work on your driving-while-getting-blown skills.” I said, sitting back in my seat.

“Fuck me.” He groaned.

“I was going to, but I feared for my cars life.” I said.

He glared at me before moving his attention back to the road.

The cars speed increased, until Frank pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store, parked and crawled between the seats into the back.

“Fuck me, Gerard. I want to be fucked.”

“After we get our little, red fruits.” I said, two could play that game.

“My little, red fruits are not happy at you.” Frank pouted.

“Sorry, didn’t realize my big, red fruits looked like they cared.” I said, grabbing my crotch for effect, before stepping out of the car. I started to walk towards the front of the store, but after a moment of not hearing my Frankie running to catch up with me, turned back.

He was still sitting in the backseat of the car, arms folded stubbornly. I walked back to the car and opened the door.

“Frankie? Baby?” I said.

“Fuck me?” He asked hopefully.

“Fruits first.” I said.

“Fuck you.” He sighed.

“Oh, you will. We just need to go buy the fruit first.”

“No!” Frank wailed, but I pulled him out of the car, closed the door, and locked it with the handy-dandy button on my key ring.

I dragged Frank up to the store, and he once inside, he practically ran for the produce.

“I got strawberries, now let’s go.”

“Uh, sweetie? Those are bananas.” I said gently, taking the obnoxiously yellow fruit from his hands, and leading him to the other end of the produce section, where there was a big sign announcing the location of the strawberries.

“Sorry, I must have bananas on the brain.” He said, grabbing six boxes of strawberries.

“Got enough berries there?” I asked taking a few containers from his hands.

“You know the berries are gonna taste like sex.” He pointed out.

“Have you not been to a Bert and Quinn party? Everything tastes like sex.” I said, reminding him of all the sex flavored foods and beverages we had consumed.

Frank giggled creepily, and we walked toward the register. We dumped the six boxes of berries on the conveyer belt.

“Wow, what are you going to do with all these strawberries?” The cashier asked. His nametag read ‘Evan, member of 2 years’.

“Make them taste like sex.” Frank said, sliding his credit card in the credit-card slider.

Evan froze, then continued scanning the strawberries. “That’s nice.” He said. He placed the berries in a bag, and handed it to me.

“You know, usually I would laugh and insist that I don’t know him, but this time he’s kind of right. Sex berries, mm-mm-mm.”

“Uh, okay, do you guys need some condoms?” Evan asked, I thought it over and looked at Frank, waiting for an answer.

“Probably couldn’t hurt.” Frank said.

“You’ve never been in my glove box, have you?” I asked him.

He giggled again, and dragged me away from the register, and out of the store. He sped up as my car came into sight. I hit the unlock button on the device on my key ring, and Frank opened the back door, tossed the bag over the seat, and slid across the bench. I got in behind him, and leaned between the front seats to get to the glove box.

“Get on with it!” Frank whined.

I laughed and pulled the condom on. Frank struggled to remove his pants. I positioned myself behind him and rubbed his shoulders to relax him before I slammed into him, he whimpered, which heightened my pleasure, I thrusted into him again, grabbing the seats and moaning, his muscles clenched around me, I pulled almost completely out and slammed into him, biting his shoulder as I screamed into my orgasm. He moaned as he came. I slid off him and pulled my pants back on.

“Dude, clean up my seat, it’s leather, I don’t want jizz stains all over my car.” I laughed, climbing up to the front again.

“I’m driving!” Frank insisted.

“Not so much.”

“Fuck you.” He said, climbing into the front after me.

“You can.” I said, winking as I started the car. “I’m pretty sure that you still owe me.”

“Oh, do I now?” He asked.

“Yeah-huh.” I pulled out of the parking lot, and got back on the highway. Five minutes later, we were parking back outside Bert and Quinn’s house. Pete’s car was now in the spot that mine was in before, so I parked on the street. We went up to the door, and went back inside.

“Bert?” Quinn called.

“No, it’s us.” I said as Frank and I walked back into the kitchen.

“Oh.” Quinn said, moping over the chocolate sauce he was still heating.

“ Love you too, Quinn.” Frank said, sitting down at the table next to Pete.

“You know, when you heat chocolate for too long, it scorches, then tastes weird.” I pointed out.

“Fuck you,” He said, turning up the heat to prove his point.

“You should really turn it off.” I told him.

“Whatever, it’s still chocolate!” Quinn shouted.

“Yeah, sure.” I said, slapping Pete a greeting high five.

“’Sup, man?” He asked.

“Not much, you?”

“Waiting for Bert, so that Quinn will finally shut up.” He said, scowling at Quinn.

Quinn flicked the spoon at Pete, causing scorching drips of chocolate sauce to fly across the room. The hit the floor about halfway across the space between them.

“Quack, quack, motherfuckers.” Bert announced as he came in the front door.

“Bert!” Quinn said, dropping the spoon, and running into the front room. The rest of us neglected to join them, as they would be making out for a while. Brendon, who was standing behind Pete’s chair, with his hands on his shoulders, looked pointedly away from the door into the living room. A few minutes later, Quinn and Bert entered the room, looking rather… disheveled.

“Hey, Bert!” I shouted tackling him to the floor.

“I am too high for this.” Bert complained.

“Do you mean not high enough?” Brendon giggled.

“Haha, you’re so funny, Urie.” Bert said, sarcastically.

Brendon nodded.

“So, Quinn, is the chocolate ready now?” I questioned.

“Oh shit, I was so excited that Bert came, I just forgot everything!” Quinn said, running to the stove, where he instantly turned the burner off.

“That happens a lot doesn’t it?” I asked.

“Oh, you went there!” Bob chuckled.

“Well, the roads are icy as fuck, so we ain’t going anywhere. Y’all are probably going to stay here tonight. Let’s get naked!” He cheered.

“Chocolate first.” Brendon insisted.

Quinn started to object but saw the objection in Jepha’s eyes, so he grumbled, but poured the chocolate into a bowl anyways.

“Yay!” Jepha grinned.

“Oh, I see, you would rather eat chocolate than fuck me.” Bob said, he crossed his arms, but he was smiling.

“I would prefer to eat you covered in chocolate.” Jepha smirked.

“I’m sure you would.” Bob laughed.

“Can we eat quickly?” Quinn begged.

“Of course, did you put the stuff in it?” Bert asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“Uhuh.” Quinn giggled.

“What, ‘stuff”, dude?” I asked, sniffing the bowl of steamy chocolate.

“Hey, does this smell like pot?” I questioned.

“Sure does!” Bert said, swiping his finger through it and then sucking it off.

The bowl was placed in the center of the table, and shortbread and strawberries were passed around. It wasn’t long before we were all stuffed full of pot-chocolate. Frank was still dipping the remains of his strawberries and shortbread, though he wasn’t eating them.

I took the piece of dripping shortbread he had just dipped off the fork, and lobbed it at Bob. It hit him in the side of the face, and had enough momentum to roll across his face and hit his nose before rolling down his face and off his chin.

“You motherfuck--”

Bob was stopped from murdering me by Jepha, who pushed him back into his chair, straddled his lap, and promptly began licking the chocolate from his face.

Bob didn’t struggle. He leaned his head into Jepha’s tongue, and moved his hands across Jepha’s body.

Bert sat watching interestedly, as the rest of us watched in mild disgust.

After Bob’s face was clean/completely covered in saliva, Jepha moved his mouth to Bob’s, and they began making out, Bob’s hands grabbing Jepha’s ass roughly, and grinding his hips into Jepha’s.

“I didn’t know you two are that kinky.” Bert commented.

“We are.” Bob managed, around Jepha’s tongue.

“Yay.” Bert clapped.

“So, kids, what should we do now?” Pete asked.

“ME!” Bert shouted.

“All at the once? I don’t think that there are enough, holes or dicks for that to occur.” Pete reasoned.

“Do I feel an orgy coming on?” Brendon asked.

“That’s my baby!” Pete said, slapping Brendon’s raised hand.

“Pair us up, so we can dish it out.” Bert cheered.

“Couples, duh.” Frank said.

“But a zillion-some sounded like more fun.” Bert pouted.

“Okay, what if we just dump chocolate sauce on the floor and roll around naked in it. Worry about whose with who later.” Quinn yawned.

“You are high.” Bert said. “And I love it.” He said, licking Quinn’s ear, then grabbing the chocolate bowl, and dumping it on the floor. We watched with interest as Bert stripped off, and threw himself on the floor, then rolled around in the sauce, spreading it over most of the floor.

“You gonna make me enjoy this by myself, Bob?” Bert asked, raising his eyebrows, laying on his back with his hands behind his head, lifting his hips rhythmically, for effect.

“Not drunk enough for this!” I shouted, searching the cabinets for something to drink.

By the time that I found a bottle of Stoli, downed a few shots worth, and turned back around, Bert, Quinn, and Brendon were going at it in the chocolate.

“Shall we?” I asked Pete, Jepha, Bob, and Frank.

“I’m game!” Frank shrieked, stripping.

“I’ll just stay here.” Bob said.

“Come on, baby!” Jepha insisted.

Bob looked from the chocolate covered Bert, Quinn and Brendon, to Pete and Frank, who were stripping off, to me, who was nodding encouragingly, to Jepha, who looked like he was about to get on his knees and beg.

Bob nodded slowly.

“Only because I love you.” Bob said to Jepha, who jumped, whooped, and started stripping. A moment later, we were all rolling around naked in the warm chocolate. Frank was lying next to me, and I was kissing him fiercely, but then Pete, Bert and Bob pulled Frank away from me, and I was pulled into Quinn, Jepha, and Brendon.

"I wasn't done yet!" I objected.

"Yes, you were." Jepha purred as Quinn and Brendon assaulted my chest.

"Okay.... all right, yeah. You-you're right I was." I decided, pulling Jepha's mouth to mine. His kisses were rougher than Frank's ever were, and then someone's mouth was on my cock. I moaned as someone rolled me over. I pushed Jepha's tongue out of my mouth and found his dick. He wrapped his legs around my neck and tangled his hands in my hair. At this point, I had a dick in my ass, a mouth on my dick, and a dick down my throat. The best part? I didn't know who's dick or mouth was who's, I only knew I was losing my mind, and I smelled chocolate. This is why I consumed vodka before starting our festivities, there are some things that one should never be sober for, chocolate fondue covered penises that aren't your boyfriend's is one of them.

It took all my energy not to bite down on Jepha’s dick as I felt release coming. Quite suddenly, the weight on my chest doubled, as someone jumped on Jepha. With a shock, I opened my eyes, to see Bert on Jepha’s back. I laughed at the surprised look on Jepha’s face as Bert thrusted into him.

Jepha groaned/screamed/moaned, and came, spurting into my mouth. He fell backwards off of me, Bert falling with him.

I rolled over and found myself in Frank's arms. He held me close and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around him and looked around to find all the couples in the same set up. Except for Bert and Pete. They were still going at it, loudly. They're partners were watching, and Quinn was jacking of. Brendon was too exhausted to care, poor little fellow got worn out easily, he licked some of the chocolate of the back of his hand, Frank and I looked at each other and shrugged. I lurched at Quinn.

"Need some help with that?" I asked, and uncurled his fingers from around his dick and took it into my mouth. Which for as tall as he was, was slightly disappointing. Sure I'm biased... but I have to face the facts, Frankie's bigger. Either way, I bobbed on his cock.

“Jesus fuck!” He cried.

Bert paused his making out with Pete to glance over at us, then turned his attention away. Frank and Brendon were talking quietly, and Bob was cradling a content looking Jepha in his arms.

Quinn came into my mouth, and I swallowed, then sat back.

After a few minutes, as the chocolate hardened on my skin, I started to feel gross. I stood up wiped off my feet before heading to the bathroom. I sucked the chocolate off my index finger and stepped into the shower, and turned it on. As I started washing away the chocolate there was a bang on the door.

I stopped humming, "um, yeah?"

"Are you decent?" Bert's voice called through the door.

"After tonight are you really gonna ask that?"

"Oh, well, listen, I can't leave you unsupervised." He said, trying the door knob, which I had locked, why? I don't know. Habit, maybe. I mean, it's not I hadn't had sex with every man in this house... multiple times.

"Um, I think I'll be okay." I said, lathering my hair in shampoo.

"No! QUINN, HONEY, WHERE IS THE SCREWDRIVER?"
Bert shrieked at the top of his lungs.

I heard Quinn scream back, "Wait? We have a screwdriver?"

“Yes, with all our other tools!” Bert yelled back.

“Teehee, tools.” I heard somebody giggle.

“I’ll look.” Quinn said, in a I-think-you’re-on-crack-but-I’ll-humor-you voice.

“Dude! We have a screwdriver!” Quinn said, sounding surprised. I heard the sounds of Bert taking the doorknob off as I rinsed my hair. The door swung open, and Bert came in, put the doorknob back on, then pushed the door closed.

“So why exactly can you not leave me alone?” I asked.

“Cause Frankie was afraid you’d die in some orgasmic overdose.” Bert laughed.

“Right.” I said, flipping my head to get the shampoo out of the hair on the back of my head.

“You know,” Bert said, and I heard him close the toilet lid so he could sit on it. “There’s a better reason for why I came in here, though Frankie was worried about you.”

“Oh, yeah? And what was that?” I asked, flipping my head back over and rinsing out the sides.

"He says you haven't been yourself lately. What's up?"

"You know, Bert, I love you, man, but I just can't have this discussion while we're both naked." I said, sighing, it wasn't exactly just because we were naked, I just didn't want to talk about it. I had been acting differently lately, if I didn't want anyone to find out, I really needed to work on that.

"Okay, later though, huh?" He asked.

"Uh, yeah. Sure." I said, nervously.

"Well, since we are both naked... and the water's hot, want some help?" I grinned, seeing him slink into the shower behind me, his head found it's way to my shoulder, and his lips found their way to my neck.

He set his hands on my waist, and slowly let them glide down to my hips. Then he froze.

He removed his mouth from my neck, and he looked down at my hips.

"Um, Gerard? Why are there a bunch of cuts on your hips?" He asked.

"Oh, that's, they're, those are... Frank," I chuckled casually, "Need I say anymore?" I shrugged.

"Gerard," he crouched at my hip, and fingered the wounds, "those are from a razor. You know, you really should have just told me." He said, disappointment glistening in his eyes a he left the shower.

"Bert!" I called, violently rinsing myself off in attempt to run after him.

I tripped over the edge of the tub, and caught myself on Bert.

"Wait, please." I begged.

"Why, Gerard? Why are you doing this to yourself again?" Bert asked quietly. "And why the fuck didn't you tell any of us? Seriously. man. And Frank, how does he not know?"

"Frank doesn't know because I cover it with make-up, I didn't tell any of you, cause I knew you'd react this way." I said.

"And why are you doing it?" He pressed.

I hesitated.

"I just ran out of choices, nothing was making it better, Frank wanted to help, but if I told him any of the shit I'm going through, it would scare him... scare him away. I need him. D-dont tell anyone, please, Bert, I'll do whatever, just, please."

"What exactly are you going through, Gerard? 'Cause I'm hearing a lot about these 'problems', but I still don't know what they are, what's so bad that you started this shit again?"

I wasn't sure where to start.

"Just... stuff, y'know? Like... Grandma's anniversary is in a couple weeks, and Matt sent me an email, and--"

"Dude, Matt sent you an email? Why?" Bert asked.

"He, like, wanted to get together."

"What, like, for lunch or something?"

"No... like together."

"Dude, like how... like, together together?" Bert asked disbeleivingly.

"Yeah, together, together."

"Ew... Matt?"

"Yeah."

"Ew... Matt?"

"Yes, Bert! And, I don't know, Frank's been... never mind."

"Frank's been what, Gerard?"

"Different, he comes home late, and he smells... weird."

"Dude, why are you jumping to conclusions? It's probably just like that movie where that chick thinks her husband is cheating on her but he's just DANCING!" Bert squealed, and started shuffling around in a circle, ballroom style.

"I'm not jumping to conclusions, cause this is Frank, not Richard Gere, and I'm not Susan Sarandon!"

"If you're Susan Sarandon, can I be Tim Curry? 'Cause I'm just a sweet transvestite from... Transexual Transylvania, haha!" All serious conversations came to an end as Bert started singing.

"Seriously?" I cocked an eyebrow as Bert kept up his act, "I'm talking about my marriage problems, and you're singing about being a transvestite?"

"Mmhmm," Bert said, starting to prance around the room.

"Dude, I said I'm NOT Susan Sarandon, okay?" I said.

"Yeah, but I'm just a sweet transvestite, from transexual--"

"Bert." I said sternly.

"Fine," Bert said in response to my expression. "So, Frank's cheating on you, huh?" He asked casually.

"That's the only thing I can come up with." I sighed.

"Well, then, let's clear something up," and before I could stop him, the door opened, "FRAAAAANKIIIIEEEEE!" he screamed.

Frank appeared in the doorway, "'Sup?" he asked.

"Are you cheating on your husband?" Bert asked.

"What!?" Frank asked, his eyes bugging. I looked at the floor. "Gerard? What's going on?" Frank asked, his eyes moving past Bert to look at me.

"I, uh," I stammered.

"Gerard says that you come home late all the time, and you smell weird." Bert said.

"Bert..." I nudged him, trying to signal him to shut the fuck up.

"Gerard?" Frank asked. "Wh-what's going on, what's Bert talking about?"

I swallowed hard, "I could do what I want to and tell you that Bert has hit the Bong one too many times tonight, but that won't change the problems that you and I are having. What's going on those nights, Baby?"

"Gerard, I..." his eyes rolled back into his head and then his naked, chocolate coated body fell onto the floor.

"Oh, he dies on those nights?" Bert said, looking at Frank's body interestedly.

"Frank!" I cried, throwing myself on the ground by his side. I carefully set my hand on his chest to make sure his heart was still beating, and then made sure he was still breathing.

"What's going on?" Pete asked, running down the hall, Brendon, Bob and Jepha on his heels. Quinn turned up behind them a moment later.

I was shaking Frank's shoulders forcefully Brendon and Bob had to pry me off of him. Pete bent down next to him.

"Calm down, Gee, he's just unconscious." Pete assured me.

"What the fuck happened?" Jepha asked.

"I don't know, but it probably has something to do with the Epstein-Barr, I don't know what it is though, Frankie, baby, wake up!" I stammered.

"Should I call 9-1-1?" Brendon, the only clean, dressed member of our group asked.

"No! The popo will think we killed him, all of us covered in chocolate. That's bad." Bert squealed.

"Let's get him off the bathroom floor," Brendon said. He lifted Frank's shoulders, I lifted his feet, and we carried him to the couch in the living room.

The rest of us got dressed, and I got Frankie back into his clothes, before Frank woke up, about ten minutes later.

"Hey, baby," I whispered, brushing his hair back off his face.

"Gerard," He whispered hoarsely.

"I'm here, baby, I'm here." I said, rubbing his cheek.

"I... I wasn't doing anything bad. I was planning a trip for our anniversary, but it was expensive, so I started cleaning an old lady's house on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"I'm sorry I didn't have faith in you." I sighed.

"It's not your fault, I didnt mean to scare you." He whispered.

"Aw, Gerard is Susan Sarandon!" Bert giggled.

"Hush, baby, our fuck buddies are having a soap opera moment." Quinn whispered.

"I love you, Frank, I shouldn't doubt you, ever."

"Tell him about your cutting!" Bert whispered loudly.

"Your what?" Frank asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

"I-I started cutting again. Matt wanted to get together with me... and I thought you were... it was just getting to be too much."

"How didn't I see?" he asked.

"Oh my god! Guys, look at Frank, he looks like Mimi at the end of Rent! Gerard, you're Roger, sing your eyes! Sing, sing before he dies!"

"Bert, shut up!" Quinn whined.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Gerard, you fucking idiot," Frank said, slapping the side of my head, then kissing me.

"I love you," I said.

"I love you." He said back to me, and we kissed again.

"Aw!" Bert said, throwing himself onto us.

"Bert, quit ruining their moments!" Quinn wailed, stomping his foot.

"Round two, round two! The chocolate isn't all the way dry yet!" Bert cheered.