FicWad

Title: Our Song (1/1)
Author: doesany1notice
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Rating: R
Disclaimer: this is fake
Word Count: almost 6,000
Warnings: mentioned underage drinking and drug use, sex
Summary: Two boys, five snippets of a relationship, and one song. (AU)
A/N: NOT A SONG FIC!!! Sorry, I just wanted to clear that up. This is a little something I wrote way back when to help me forget about finals. This can also be found on my LJ






When picking "the song" for a relationship, most couples normally pick a sweet, slow, romantic song, and they normally pick it together, and, you know, they are usually actually in a relationship. Gerard never claims to be normal, so he doesn't follow any of these rules.


Meet:

Gerard is sitting by himself on the bus ride home from working at the comic book store. He has his headset on, so he doesn't have to acknowledge anyone if he doesn't want to. His messenger bag takes up most of the seat next to him, and he is slumped in his seat, trying to give off as much negative don't-fucking-mess-with-me vibes as he can. His music is turned up as loud as it can go, and Gerard taps his fingers against his knee to the rhythm because he fucking loves the Smashing Pumpkins.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when he's tapped on the shoulder. This guy is staring at him expectantly and probably slightly amused. Gerard pulls his headphones off, but he can still hear Billy Corgan's voice clearly.

"Yeah?" Gerard lets all his annoyance come out through that one syllable, just because this guys is gorgeous doesn't mean that Gerard is going to cut him any slack.

"Do you mind?" the guy points to the seat that's currently reserved for Gerard's bag, "I hate standing, and everywhere else is full. Plus, I'm pretty sure your bag will forgive you if it has to sit somewhere else for one bus ride."

Gerard fights the smile that tries to force its way onto his face; the other guy is beaming at Gerard and it's one of those contagious smiles. He loses the battle and ends up smiling back, right before he moves his bag onto his lap.

The guy slides into the seat and their thighs are instantly pressed together, hip to knee. He shoots Gerard another grateful smile. Gerard shifts nervously because this guy really is very attractive, and now his whole body is hyperaware of all the places they're touching. He fiddles with the strap of his bag for a second before he goes to put his headphones back on.

"So I might have lied just a little," the other guy says before Gerard can get the headphones back near his ears, "there was another spot, but it was next to a woman who reminded me of my Aunt Muriel, not that there's anything wrong with my Aunt Muriel. She's just one of those Aunt's who wears really heavy floral perfume, and bright pink lipstick, and then insists on long hugs and kissing me on the cheek, and all I can smell for an hour is roses, and I can never seem to get the lipstick off my face for the rest of the day. You, however, don't remind me of my Aunt Muriel, or any of my family members, for that matter..."

There is a long awkward pause after that, while Gerard tries to process what was said, and the guy looks embarrassed. Finally, Gerard can't help but let out a little laugh and the guy blushes.

"Um, ok?" Gerard chuckles, "that's good, I guess."

"Sorry," the other guy mumbles, "I get really bad verbal-diarrhea sometimes."

"It's cool," Gerard shrugs because verbal-diarrhea isn't nearly as bad as some of his own quirks, and Gerard isn't a hypocrite.

The blush on the guy's face fades away, and he looks at Gerard with a nervous smile and says: "I'm Frank."

Gerard remembers everything about that moment, as if he knows it will be important to him in the future. The way the florescent lights of the bus and the few leftover rays from the setting sun reflect off of Frank's eyes making them shine gold. The way the seat beneath him vibrates in synch with the engine of the bus, and the weight of his bag bouncing uncomfortably against his stomach every time they hit a bump in the road.

Above all else, he remembers the way he hears the clear sound of Billy Corgan's voice singing the chorus of one of his favorite Smashing Pumpkins song.



Kiss:

Gerard's parents are out of town, and Mikey is off being Mikey somewhere else, while Gerard and Frank sit on Gerard's bed drinking beer and sharing a joint. The tiny T.V. on Gerard's dresser is on, but it's used more as the only light source than anything else because they don't have the attention span necessary to follow a storyline. The sound is muted, and Gerard has a mixed CD in his stereo playing loud enough to cover up their silence but low enough for them to talk if they want to. When they've killed the joint, Gerard drops it into an empty beer can so he doesn't burn holes in his sheets again.

"And then he told me he was going to kick my ass," Frank says. His legs are sprawled out in front of him, and if it weren't for the wall behind him he would be flat on his back. He looks like the very picture of relaxed. Now either Gerard has completely missed most of Frank's story, or Frank never told the first part of his story to begin with. Both are completely possible, knowing them when they're high.

"Wait," Gerard says as he rotates his body, so his whole right side is pressed against the wall and his legs are tucked underneath him, so he can look at Frank directly, "who said they were going to kick your ass?"

"Huh?" Frank frowns at Gerard in confusion, "Someone's going to kick my ass? What?"

"What?" Gerard says, even more confused than before, and, shit, Frank's face is either super close or the weed has given him super magni-vision powers, or something, because his face is right there. Objects in the mirror may be closer than they appear... or something like that.

"What?" Frank and takes a swig of his beer, but he's probably had more than enough because his whole body sways when he moves his arm. His hand goes slack once he sets it back down and the can tips over, spilling the last few drops of alcohol onto Gerard's Batman sheets. Either they don't notice, or they don't care because neither one of them say or do anything about it.

"I don't even know, man," Gerard shakes his head because they are so fucked up, "shit Frankie, we are so fucked up."

"Yeah," his voice and his smile are both wistful, and Gerard is pretty sure that Frank doesn't remember what he's agreeing to. Gerard doesn't say anything though, because he's too distracted by the shadows on Frank's face. The light from the T.V. is pale blue, and reflects off of the bridge of his nose, forehead, his eyelashes, the high part of his cheek, the natural gloss of his lip, the shine of his lip ring, and a bit of his chin. Everything else is in shadow. Gerard has never seen anything more beautiful.

As if reading his mind, Frank turns his head towards Gerard, his wistful smile still firmly on his face, and says: "shit, Gee... you're beautiful."

The fog of the weed and booze over their brains makes it impossible for them to know how long they sit there, just looking at each other. Frank's face gets closer, but Gerard isn't sure who moved, and he can feel Frank's warm breath against his lips. The alcohol in Gerard's system gives him the confidence and recklessness to tilt his face forward and catch Frank's lips.

His lips are soft in contrast to the slight scratch of stubble around his mouth and on his chin, and he tastes purely of alcohol and marijuana. Their noses bump ungracefully together, and Frank's tongue is a little overenthusiastic. It's the best drunken kiss anyone could ask for. Gerard's fingers stroke the skin on the back of Frank's neck, while Frank's hands rest on the bed beside Gerard's hips keeping them upright.

Finally they pull away, and Gerard can't help but stare at his best friend. Frank's eyes are closed and he has a blissful smile on his face. As Frank starts to lean forward, Gerard goes in for a second kiss, but Frank's whole body slumps down and his head lands on the bed next to Gerard's hip. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the soft noise Frank lets out every time he exhales lets Gerard know that he's fast asleep.

Gerard sits and touches his lips, committing every second of that kiss to his memory as best he can. He wants to remember it in the morning, even if he's pretty sure Frank won't. Then, he tosses the beer cans onto the floor, pulls Frank (who lets out a sleeping whine of protest) up towards the pillows, and pulls the sheets over the top of both of them. Frank snuggles into Gerard's side, and they both sigh contently.

Gerard faintly registers the song playing in the background before slipping into unconsciousness himself.




Sex:

Gerard's car is a piece of shit, and it smells like stale cigarette smoke, coffee, and old potato chips. Most of the time, Gerard just uses it to get from point A to point B, and not really much else. The thing is, he hasn't been home in months, so if he and Frank go back to the Way household the family will try and monopolize all his time, and he really just wants some time alone with his best friend.

Frank has changed a lot. Gerard never would have thought it possible, but, the few months he's been away, Frank has become even hotter. He's got a nose ring now, and he's cut his hair, not to mention he's lost some of his baby fat around his face and stomach. All Gerard wants to do is touch him. He's a little disappointed that his time away hasn't cured him of his ridiculous, not to mention cliché, crush on his best friend.

There is an old vacant lot where they used to go and smoke pot, and it's as good a place as any for them to catch up with each other. They spend the first hour on the hood of the car, and Frank talks about his band and Gerard tells him about the time he dressed in drag. It feels weird, like he has to get to know Frank all over again because this wasn't the same best friend he left behind. It's probably really selfish, but a part of him expected things to stay the same and just be waiting for him to come back, especially Frank.

It starts getting cold, and the weatherman said it will probably rain, so they reluctantly climb into the car. Neither one really wants to go home, so Gerard turns on the battery, not the engine, just enough for the heater to kick on and the radio to play. They don't sit in the front seats because they aren't ready to leave and Frank loves to snuggle when it's cold out.

They lay squashed together on the backseat, Frank's head on Gerard's chest, their arms wrapped around each other, and their legs tangled together. Despite the cramped space of the backseat, Gerard is so comfortable he may have dozed off for a few minutes, but he's warm and Frank's hair, no matter what color, feels the same when he runs his fingers through it.

"Hey," Frank whispers, and his voice is thick making Gerard realize that Frank must have fallen asleep too, "remember how I told you I wanted to get a tattoo?"

"Mmhmm," Gerard isn't sure where this is going, but it's not to the tattoo parlor, that's for damn sure. Needles aside, Gerard knows Frank would look even hotter (if that's even possible) if he had some ink.

"I got one," and Frank beams up at Gerard, the contagious one that Gerard always returns no matter what his mood.

"What? Where?" Gerard looks at what little exposed skin of Frank's he can see. It's not much, and all of it is normal, flesh-colored skin.

Frank pulls away and sits up. He tugs awkwardly at the hem of his shirt. Inch by inch, Gerard's eyes take in the smooth skin of his back. There, nestled between his shoulder blades is a grinning jack-o'-lantern. It's just so perfectly Frank, with its manic grin and joyful eyes. Gerard can't help but sit up and touch it. His hand rests on Frank's shoulder blade, while his thumb strokes over the inked skin. He expects the inked parts to be raised, or at least feel different, but it's just as smooth as the rest of Frank's skin, and Gerard wonders if it would taste any different. His thumb runs right over the crease of Frank's spine, and they both shiver.

"Sorry," Gerard snatches his arm away, "you must be cold."

"Um," Frank turns around and looks at Gerard. His shirt is still pulled up around his neck, and he isn't making any move to pull it back down. There's something about the look in Frank's eyes, and his impish grin that makes Gerard both cautious and excited, "I'm not cold at all."

Then Frank's hands are on Gerard's shoulders and their lips are pressed together. It's just a nervous press of flesh against flesh, and the last time they did this they were both cross-faded out of their minds, but they don't have the influence of anything to blame this time. Gerard's eyes are wide with shock and trepidation, but Frank's eyes are shut tightly and his grip on Gerard's shoulders is painful. Before Frank can pull away, Gerard's hands grip Frank's bare waist and the back of his neck, and their kiss becomes much more than the press of skin on skin.

Frank's mouth tastes like cigarettes and cinnamon gum, and it's the best thing Gerard has ever tasted in his life. There is no battle for dominance; they both seem content with allowing the other to explore. They both sit there kissing each other softly, until Frank sucks Gerard's tongue into his mouth and Gerard can't take it anymore. Just a slight tug and they're flat across the backseat, without breaking the kiss. Frank's hips press against Gerard's as his knees find perches between Gerard's slightly spread legs.

Frank's hands find their way into Gerard's hair, while Gerard's find their way to Frank's chest. Frank rocks his hips, and Gerard tears his mouth away, so he can moan and gasp for breath. Frank sloppily kisses the corner of Gerard's mouth, his cheek, his temple, everywhere up and down the side of his face, as he rocks his hips more. Gerard buries his face in Frank's neck to muffle the rest of his moans, and begins licking and sucking the delicious skin there. His hands trail down Frank's chest to the top of his pants. With his fingers dancing along Frank's waist, Gerard wonders if he should push his luck. He can barely believe that he's actually kissing Frank for a second time, not to mention while they're both sober. Does he dare try taking things farther?

Frank sucks and bites down on his ear, and Gerard's hips reflexively buck up. Frank's tongue quickly flicks against Gerard's earlobe before running down to his neck. As one of his hands grips a handful of Frank's hair, Gerard moans out: "fuck, Frankie."

"You want to?" Frank asks as he nuzzles his nose against Gerard's neck, and pushes their hips together. He can probably feel how much Gerard wants to.

"Fuck yeah," Gerard moans anyway, just so there is no confusion. Gerard is pretty sure he's never wanted anything more in his entire life. They really should talk about what's going to happen, what's happening, and what this is going to mean for them. Gerard knows there is so much that should be said before they move ahead, but when Frank pulls back and smiles at him all his concern and apprehension fly out the window. This is what he wants, fuck the repercussions.

Their shirts are easy to discard, especially Frank's, but the removal of pants is awkward in the cramped backseat of Gerard's car, and finally they are blessedly naked and pressed against each other. They don't waste a single second with anymore foreplay. Preparation is awkward and slightly painful without anything more than spit as lubricant, but luckily Frank doesn't rush it and allows Gerard time adjust.

It feels like mere moments later, Frank is pressing in, and Gerard can't breathe for a second. Even with preparation, the lack of lubricant makes it burn. It's not magical because it takes some time for it to even be comfortable, and it's hard trying to find a rhythm and position that works for both of them. The seats aren't long enough for them to fit comfortably, and sometimes when Frank pushes in too eagerly Gerard hits his head on the door handle. Finally, Frank puts Gerard's legs over his shoulders, and pulls Gerard away from the door.

Once they find their rhythm, things go by all too quickly, as they tend to do when you're young, and eager, and sexually frustrated teenage boys. They each wrap a hand around Gerard's dick, bringing him closer and closer to completion. Frank is moaning on nearly every thrust, and Gerard can only moan when he's gasped in enough air to do so. They blindly and sloppily try to kiss each other, and are only partly successful. Gerard's other hand grips Frank's bicep, as his back arches and his vision blurs and he comes completely undone.

When Gerard's vision has cleared and he can finally breathe properly again, Frank has collapsed on top of him, blissfully spent. Frank pulls loose and wipes off their stomachs with an article of discarded clothing. Rearranging themselves, they end up in the same position as when they first crawled into the backseat, albeit without clothing.

"You ok Gee?" Frank mumbles against Gerard's skin.

"Awesome," is all Gerard has the energy to reply. It's not a lie either, Gerard still feels like he's flying, even if his conscience is catching up with him.

"Mmm, good," Frank sounds as sated as Gerard feels. His fingers dance over Gerard's cooling skin in slow calming circles, "me too."

The song on the radio changes and Gerard pulls Frank closer. Having sex with his best friend isn't the smartest thing he's ever done, and he's not sure if he should be thrilled or terrified, but he wouldn't take it back. He relaxes in the afterglow, trying not to think too hard about where they go from here, and just holds Frank.

They don't talk anymore, so he just closes his eyes and feels Frank's skin against his and listens to the Smashing Pumpkins play their song.



Avoid:

Gerard is pretty sure he's lost Frank as his friend, since they haven't talked in over 2 months, but not from lack of trying on Frank's part. Gerard admits to himself that he's an idiot, but admitting you have a problem is just the first step to recovery.

After The Incident in his car, he drives Frank home and spends every second afterwards worried about what to do next. Frank calls everyday Gerard is in town, but Gerard texts him saying he's "busy" when really he's just terrified about what will happen when they see (or even speak to) each other again. Frank is going to tell him something completely soul crushing like: it was the heat of the moment, a no-strings-attached one-off, and he still wants to be friends, and Gerard will just die. So instead, he vows that avoidance is the only option until he gets back to New York, and then he can just pretend that it never happened.

Frank calls the last night of Gerard's vacation and leaves a heartbreaking voicemail.

"Hey Gee, it's me, Frank... so um... I was hoping I would get to talk to you live... but I guess... it doesn't matter. I just wanted to say that, well, I get that you're all freaked out about the other day, and you're afraid to talk to me about it, but I really think we should. Please call me back before you leave, so we can talk this through, and I won't even yell at you or give you shit, even if I am really pissed off that you've ignored me all week. We need to talk about this eventually. Bye."

Gerard doesn't have the heart to delete the message, even when he's back in New York and he still hasn't called Frank, and he doesn't really plan to. Frank doesn't call him again, and Gerard isn't sure what that means. He tries to forget about what happened, and what is happening, but of course he can't. Everything reminds him of Frank, from tattoos, to guitars, to cigarettes, cinnamon gum, and practically everything else in his life, and it doesn't help that his car smells like sex. Stupid fabric upholstery.

The worst of course, is their god damn song. The Smashing Pumpkins are going to be in New York, so it seems like whenever Gerard turns on the radio their song is playing. That lasts for the better part of a month. A few weeks after that, when he thinks he can safely turn on his radio without being reminded of Frank, his brother comes to visit. Mikey has a Smashing Pumpkins Revival of the Soul, and spends the weekend with a nonstop Smashing Pumpkins playlist. The world is hard on him, even with non-Frank related issues, like how everyone is giving him shit about his hair. Even Ray and Mikey, bastards. Do blonds really have more fun? and Blond? Oh I thought you dyed it white. Fucking bastards, seriously. It's like the world has conspired against him to punish him for getting lucky with his best friend.

He spends all his free time desperately trying not to think of Frank or anything Frank-related (and failing), being a dirty, creepy, freak and jerking off thinking about Frank (and feeling horrible about it afterwards), getting wasted so he can forget about Frank (which never works, or makes it better), being depressed and drunk and staring at his phone begging for Frank to call him just so he can hear his voice (he never does), and once or twice he gets drunk, listens to the voicemail Frank left him, and sobs like a baby (although he'd deny it until the day he dies). It's a sad existence, even for Gerard's standards.

Before he knows it, it's summer, and he's back home for a few weeks, just until his friend Ray can find them an apartment in the city they can actually afford. He plans on staying in the basement the entire time, hiding from the sun, and coming out only when absolutely necessary. Mikey, of course, has other plans because he doesn't understand, or even know about, his brother's crisis that is ruining his life.

The shows Mikey drags him to would be a lot more fun if he wasn't such a jumpy motherfucker. He doesn't know how much of Frank's appearance has changed, so every person slightly shorter than himself makes Gerard flinch. He spends most of his time watching the crowd and ducking when he thinks he might have spotted Frank. It's never him, and Gerard isn't sure if he's relieved or disappointed. Mikey makes him go to a show every night, for a week straight, and finally Gerard tells him that he's going back to the city soon, so this is the last show he can go to. He needs to save his energy for packing up all his shit, or least that's what he tells Mikey.

Not seeing Frank has made Gerard slowly let down his guard, which is a big mistake. It happens when Gerard steps outside so he can get fresh air and have a relaxing smoke. There's a group of guys nearby talking and laughing loudly, but Gerard never really feels comfortable enough to approach complete strangers, so he just leans against a wall and enjoys his cigarette.

"I swear to God, Frank," someone yells nearby, and Gerard's head snaps up. It can't be, can it? Apparently it can, because there he is, unmistakably Frank, even with an entire arm covered in tattoos, makeup, and whatever the hell he did to his hair, Gerard knows, without a shadow of a doubt, it's him. Perched on the shoulders of a big, angry looking, bearded, blond man, Frank looks completely happy with life. He's absolutely beautiful. The blond guy looks decidedly less thrilled, and glares up at the tattooed man, "I'll give you three seconds to get off of me before I start running through doorways."

Frank laughs, before sliding onto the ground, with grace that suggests that he's done it about a thousand times before. When he finishes his cigarette, Gerard just lights up another one. Gerard is still terrified about the possibility of Frank seeing him, but it doesn't change the fact that Gerard has always found Frank beautiful, and he misses him more than he's willing to admit. It isn't hurting anybody of he just stays and looks at him a bit longer.

"Did you just steal my lighter you little shit?!" The big blond guy yells while chasing a giggling Frank around their group of friends, looking even more pissed off than before. Frank skids to a stop, and uses one of his friends as a human-shield.

"It's my lighter, and you know it, Bob. You stole that shit from me last week," Frank ducks, narrowly missing being caught, before happily dancing off to the side, safely out of Bob's reach, "and I'm not sharing anymore!"

Frank sticks his tongue out at his friend and lights his own cigarette, letting out a big, dramatic moan of satisfaction as he takes a drag. Bob throws his hands up in surrender, and turns to his friends asking for a light. Unfortunately for Bob, his friends either: don't smoke, are trying to quit, lost their lighter, or forgot theirs and were therefore hoping to bum a light off of him. Frank cackles triumphantly and taunts Bob with his lighter, what a dork.

Bob asks a few passers-by, his shoulders slumped because they don't have a light and if they do they aren't sharing. He's looking around, scoping out potential smokers, when he spots Gerard leaning against the building, smoking. Gerard is trying not to be too obvious about watching them, so he has a serious "oh shit" moment, when he realizes that Bob is headed right towards him. Panicked, he looks around; he tries to find an escape route that doesn't make it completely obvious that he's running away. When he finally decides that, fuck it, he doesn't care if they know he's running away, it's too late and Bob is standing right in front of him looking hopeful.

"Hey man," Bob greets as he pulls out his pack of smokes. Gerard barely manages an eyebrow twitch in Bob's direction because he's too busy trying to look less like himself, and not make eye contact with Frank, "so... my asshole friend stole my lighter―”

“It’s my lighter, shit-for-brains!” Frank says from his place in the group of friends. He barely glances at Bob, but then he does a doubt take when he glances Gerard’s way. Gerard has a mild panic attack because he can feel Frank looking at him, and Gerard stares at Bob trying not to do any of his nervous ticks, like tucking imaginary strands of hair behind his ear. In his peripheral, Gerard can see Frank looking at him curiously, and squinting, like he recognizes him from somewhere but can’t place his face.

“Whatever,” Bob says in Frank’s direction, before giving Gerard a serious look, “please say I can borrow your lighter for half a second.”

“Keep it,” Gerard fishes his lighter out of his pocket and tosses it at Bob, before turning his back on Frank and his group of friends, and walking away. He doesn’t head back inside; he’s pretty sure he can’t stomach anymore excitement for the night.

“Thanks man,” Bob calls out to him, and Gerard mutely waves a hand over his shoulder, dismissively. The house is in the opposite direction, but he would rather walk around the block instead of going back towards Frank. He pulls out his phone and sends Mikey a text, so he doesn’t think he’s dead in an alley somewhere.

not feeling good. went home. have fun

He’s unlocking the front door when he gets a text back from his brother.

u sure? :(

ya

He doesn’t have the energy to do anything else but hide in his room. Frank looked so happy, so he figures that Frank is not nearly as torn up about this as Gerard. It hurts, to know you’re replaceable, but Gerard knows that the only person he has to blame is himself. Of course, Frank wasn’t going to wait around for a call that was never going to happen. Gerard is a fool for even thinking he had a chance with Frank to begin with. Frank is just so happy, and bouncy, and beautiful and he just… isn’t.

When he gets to his room, he collapses on his bed and turns his stereo on. He immediately turns it back off because, of course, their song is the first one to play. The Universe hates him; it’s official.


Reunion:

The first thing Gerard hears when he wakes up is: “You’re an asshole.”

He’s groggy and disoriented, and will continue to be so until he gets at least two cups of coffee in his system. It takes him a few seconds to realize there’s someone in his room, and a few more to process what was said. It takes even long for him to get the strength to open his eyes, so he can find out what the hell Mikey wants, so he can go back to sleep. Also, he realizes it’s not Mikey sitting at the edge of his bed with his arms crossed and glaring at him; it’s Frank, which is about a billion times worse. There is no way he could fall back asleep after a shock like that.

“Um,” Gerard can’t really do much else besides stare wide-eyed and clutch his blankets to his chest, wishing for a quick and painless death because Frank is right there and looking determined and pissed off.

And, oh my God, Frank is in his bedroom.

“You never called me back, you dipshit,” Frank glare gets even harder, and Gerard’s pretty sure either he’s having a nightmare or he’s in hell, “I never figured you’d fuck me then leave me. That’s a pretty shitty thing to do to your supposed best friend, and then you didn’t have the fucking decency to tell me you didn’t like me that way. Shit, Gerard, you didn’t have the decency to tell me anything at all.”

“I―” Gerard tries to say something because Frank sounds so broken, and it’s all his fault. He is the worst best friend in the history of forever. Frank doesn’t give him a chance to say anything.

“No. Shut up. You don’t get to talk. You had over two fucking months to talk to me, and since you couldn’t do that and since I had to hunt you down in your mother’s basement, you are just going to sit there, keep your fucking mouth shut, and listen to what I have to say,” Frank takes a calming breath, and Gerard sits silently hoping Frank doesn’t murder him in his mother’s house. When he speaks again, Gerard is almost positive he’s not going to die because Frank sounds more hurt and confused than anything else, “we had sex. Great sex, if I’m not mistaken. You told me you were: ‘awesome,’ dropped me off at my house, and let me think everything was ok. Then you wouldn’t return my calls and all of a sudden you were too fucking busy to see me at all. Then you were gone again, back to New York. The very least you could have done was tell me to fuck off, but you left me in limbo, Gee. I didn’t have any answers, and all I knew was that you weren’t talking to me, didn’t want me in your life, and I had just lost my best friend. Then last night, I saw you and I know you saw me, but you didn’t even spare me a glance. I understand that you don’t want me here. I just need to know why. Why did you cut me out? What did I do wrong?”

“I…” Gerard can’t stand the resigned look on Frank’s face, the acceptance of the loss of their relationship. The worst part is that it’s all his fault; if Gerard had just called Frank back he might still have him in his life. Now that he knows he’s lost Frank forever, he can finally admit to him what he’s wanted since they first met on that bus, “I want us to be more than friends.”

“So you push me out of your life, and make me think you never want to see my face again? In no way does that make any sense. I’m sorry, Gee, but I will never understand what goes on in your head,” he uncrosses his arms, shakes his head, and looks sad, and Gerard doesn’t know what to say to him, so he says the same thing he always does when he’s been a complete moron.

“I’m sorry, Frankie,” he cautiously reaches for Frank’s arm, making sure to give him plenty of time to pull away if he wants to. Frank doesn’t give any sort of response, positive or negative. He just lets Gerard touch him, and Gerard’s thumb strokes over the inked skin, “I’m an idiot.”

“You are,” Frank says seriously, “and also: fuck you, Mr. Martyr. ‘Oh no! I slept with a guy that I want to be my boy friend. He must not like me! Wah wah wah!’” Frank mocks him by using a whiney, high-pitched voice and rolling his eyes, “I’m not a slut or a manwhore, ok? I never sleep with anyone I don’t actually want.”

“You mean…” Gerard tries to not sound so hopeful, but fails miserably. He can’t even finish his question because he’s still afraid of the answer.

“Duh, you moron,” Frank says fondly as he rolls his eyes one more time before finally smiling at him. Frank scoots closer and runs a hand through Gerard’s hair, “I wouldn’t have followed your brother home at three in the morning and confronted you about this shit, if I didn’t care about you.”

“Oh,” it’s all Gerard can bring himself to say, while Frank kicks off his shoes, turns on the stereo, and pulls them both down onto the bed.

“For the record,” Frank says around a yawn, snuggling into one of Gerard’s pillows, “I’m still really pissed at you, but it’s late and my house is too far away to go home now.”

Gerard nods in agreement because, yeah, Frank has every right to be pissed at him, but his luck seems to have turned around because Frank is here with him now and he’s not going to complain. He cautiously wraps his arms around Frank’s waist, and holds him again. The last time he held him they were both naked and listening to the same song that was playing now. Gerard smiles because, just a few hours ago, the same song made him depressed, and now he is anything but.

His eyes grow heavy, and, just before he falls asleep, he hears Frank whisper over the music.

“I like this song. It reminds me of you.”

(this was) The End

(but because a reviewer on LJ begged me for more I give you…)

Part Six?:

As for what happens next:

Gerard has to do a lot to make it up to Frank for being an idiotic moron. Most of it pans out in the form of candy, and sexual favors. When he moves to NYC, Frank spends a lot of his summer vacation visiting Gerard. Frank, more often than not, also brings Bob along, so Ray will have someone to talk to while Frank and Gerard sex each other up. Ray and Bob make heterosexual man-love to each other while bitching about their super-gay friends, and playing video games. It’s the greatest summer ever.

Frank goes back to New Jersey in the fall, but Gerard is only mildly depressed. They try to see each other every other weekend, at least, and Frank makes a point to call Gerard almost every night. Gerard knows for a fact that Frank’s phone-sex voice is the sexiest sound in the world.

When Gerard finishes school, he moves closer to home and Frank, and commutes into the city. It’s totally worth it. Frank quits school, gets a part-time job, and pursues his dream of being in a band. It only takes Gerard a month to work up the courage to ask Frank to move in with him.

Cartoon Network is fun for the first three minutes, but once he gets there Gerard realizes that he doesn’t want to do this for the rest of his life. Frank’s band is doing well, but not as well as he wants it to. They fight a little because neither of them is doing what they want to be doing, and even though they both know the other isn’t to blame, it’s so easy to blame each other anyway.

After a round of awesome make up sex, they cuddle together. Frank strokes Gerard’s hair and stares at his face for a long time. Eventually, Frank kisses his boyfriend and tells him that he wants to spend the rest of his life with him. There are so many uncertainties in their lives past, present and future, but Gerard knows that he’s sure about their relationship, so they have another round of sex, fantastic engagement sex.

They get married that summer. They have a beautiful outdoor wedding, organized and planned by Frank’s mom. It’s not a very big wedding, and neither of them wear white, but it’s absolutely perfect. They write their own vows, and both their mothers cry.

At the reception, Mikey has a minor altercation with the DJ, who doesn’t think the song is very “wedding appropriate” but gives in because Mikey is the one with the checkbook. Mikey gives his brother the thumbs up from across the room. Gerard pulls his husband towards the dance floor before the song begins. The look Frank gives him when he realizes what song is playing, is worth every single bad thing that has ever happened in his life. They wrap their arms around each other, and look into each other’s eyes because there is nothing else in the world they would rather look at.

Then they dance together for the first time as a married couple.

AND THEY LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER! ;_;



A/N: I tried to be a little ambiguous about the song, so you could just insert your favorite Smashing Pumpkins song. In my head, though, the song is Bullet With Butterfly Wings because I love it and any song that talks about rage and rats is pretty unromantic.

Let me know what you liked/disliked! K?