Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance

Sunblock and Saltwater.

by horrorshow 1 review

Frerard; Frank and Gerard go to the beach and drama ensues.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG - Genres: Romance - Characters: Gerard Way - Published: 2011-05-12 - Updated: 2011-05-12 - 2188 words

“I don't want to go” Frank says, feet up on the dashboard, sniffing tiredly in distress. He had just woken up, and after that two-hour drive from Jersey to Playland in New York, the last thing he wanted to do was go onto that small, sweaty beach. Gerard, chipper for once, begins to unpack the contents of the car, all while trying to convince his younger lover to get up. Opening the door, he plants a small kiss on Frank's forehead, which is only met with angry huffing and small, waking up noises.

Eventually, with much coaxing and promises laden with sexual innuendos, Frank gets out of the car and helps carry the cooler, umbrella and oversized beach bag, making their way out of the parking lot and into the theme park and public beach. It was open from nine to five o'clock, and Gerard was so confident in the great time they'd have that he woke Frank up a six-thirty in the morning, just to get there early. Frank and Gerard are a sight; tight jeans (although Gerard's are somewhat looser than Frank's restricting mess) and black tees in the hot, sticky summertime heat. Gerard had insisted on bringing the umbrella, which his short boyfriend was struggling with, the plastic flaps hitting him in the face. Where Gerard had even found this in the Way household, Frank wasn't too sure, but it wasn't surprising. Gerard's old room was filled to the brim with crap that Frank had insisted he leave once they moved to their Belleview apartment complex.

The beach is littered with toddlers and their parents; the heat is literally visible, waves of it emanating from the sand. Frank dumps the umbrella onto the ground with a sigh of relief, not noticing the crunch of the cheap umbrella as it roughly struck the sand. “Frank! You fucking broke it.” Gerard exclaims, giving him a dirty look, although he isn't really mad. It was actually half broken anyways from Mikey's last trip to the Jersey Shore, so, he was kind of expecting it to snap completely, especially with Frank's clumsiness. Frank mumbles a 'sorry', and clacks at his lip ring, shy under Gerard's half-hearted scorn. He scrunches his nose at Frank and give him a quick peck on the cheek, because he doesn't really want him to feel bad.

Suddenly having the heat attack at their bodies, both boys strip, tee shirts falling loosely and soundlessly on top of the golden, baked ground. Gerard can't help but admire Frank's remarkable array of tattoos, the pretty formation of his chest. He's a little proud because, well, he hits that, and that's kind of amazing, to say the least. Frank wriggles out of his clingy jeans and reveals a plain, black bathing suit, with the waistband of his boxers peeking through the top. When they were getting ready in their bedroom, Gerard questioned why Frank was wearing boxers and swim trunks, and Frank told him that was a fashion statement. But Gerard knew the real reason was that Frank had sensitive skin, and the rough mesh of the suit chaffed his delicate flesh.

“Oh my God, where are those pants from?” Frank shoots him a mortified look, staring at the Hawaiian print, bright red shorts that were clinging low on Gerard's hips. How did he not notice those things when they were getting dressed? Gerard just shoots him a blank look, like 'what does that matter'. Frank is exasperated and rolls his eyes, but drops it, because they're together and that's really all that matters, as cliché as that may or may not sound. Gerard takes the sunblock from the cooler and offers to rub it into Frank's back, because let's face it, Frank really couldn't do a good job by himself, and Gerard knew that his skin burned as easily as it chaffed.

Frank gives an angry yelp at the coldness of the sunblock, which had been sitting with their drinks in the pile of ice they had packed. “Gee, that's freezing, you asshole!” He whines, arching his back as Gerard rubbed the thick white lotion on his small boy's back. Gerard laughs, and then starts warming it up in his hands before rubbing it on him – although, in all honesty, Gerard kind of liked seeing Frank squirm. He couldn't help but admire the amazing fluidity and contours of skin that enveloped his small frame. Gerard rubbed the sunblock thoroughly over Frankie, making sure he even got the places Frank could reach himself, because he would probably not put enough on.

“Can you get my back?” Gerard asks, a little bit of hesitance in his voice. He wasn't exactly trusting of Frank with sunblock, or hot stoves, or alone in the tub (but then again … who would like the thought of Frank alone in a bath tub), but he couldn't reach the pale skin of his back, and it was either Frank's poor job or nothing. Frank, still a bit indignant and spoiled about the cold sunblock, nodded, then put the freezing liquid directly onto Gerard. He rolled his eyes as Frank giggles, pleased to have gotten him back. It felt nice though, and Frank uses one finger to rub it in. “Make sure you got it all,” Gerard says. “I really hate being burned.”

They walked to the edge of the lukewarm Playland waterfront, small children gracing their ankles like tiny fish. Gerard held Frank's hand, and they went out into their waists. Frank looked backwards to say something, and Gerard pushed his smaller body into the water, laughing as he was submerged. When he resurfaced, Frank jumped onto him, legs wrapped around his waist. “Fuck you, asshole!” He screamed, dirty water splashing, hot sun flashing onto two beautiful boys without a care in the world.

They really weren't caring enough, because the children stared at them with dumbstruck eyes – did they say the 'F' word – and so did the parents; some regarded them with disdain, some with admiration, and others with pure apathy. The splashing and screaming soon aroused the attention of the lifeguard, who blew his whistle, signaling for the two to get out of the water. Gerard shoved Frank into the water once more, before they walked up onto the beach.

It took fifteen minutes for them to be banned from the water, period.

They both refused to make eye contact, both feeling sheepish after getting chastised by a fifteen year old with fake blonde high lights and a killer six-pack. So, they sat in the baking sun, waiting to dry off. They would have used their towels, if the cooler didn't leak all over the cloth, effectively destroying any chance of them blocking their skin from the sand. Frank began to whine as the little crystals stuck to his salty, wet skin.

He hated sand – it gave him a rash, and then Gerard would have to go get him cream because he was too embarrassed to go buy it himself. Gerard takes Frank's tee shirt and uses it as a pillow, falling asleep in the lazy afternoon heat. Frank rubs a tad more sunblock on his sleeping lover's body, but not enough to really keep him totally protected. Frank giggles as he puts the finishing touches on his suntan lotion job, then lays down, trying to ignore the disgust that filled him as the sand attacked his wet, sticky hair.

“Frankie, did you get the sunblock on my body, or did you just shove it up your ass when I handed you the bottle?!” Gerard awakens himself from his mistake of an afternoon nap; the sun scorching and unforgiving upon all of New York. Frankie looks a little bit guilty as he rolls over, sand covered and red-faced, skin layered with a sheen of sleepy, hot sweat. He looks down and becomes immersed in the rash-inducing sand.

“Yeah, I put sunblock on you.”

They try to eat some sandwiches, but the fine grains found their way into those as well, and Gerard left his wallet at home, and the money they had was already spent to pay so that they could be in Playland. Gerard is too much of a cheapskate to go home. They had paid for a six hour pass, and they were going to use that pass, whether they liked it or not. Frank tries to convince Gerard to call Mikey and have him bring money so they could at least go on the rides, but Gerard left his phone, too, and you can forget about Frankie ever remembering anything – it's a miracle when the kid decides to be fully dressed.

The sun is beginning to sit, and the boys look like hot, gory messes as the begin to pack up their beach items, which really are just the wet towels and the cooler; the little prick of a lifeguard took confiscated the drinks, because alcoholic beverages weren't permitted at Playland, and all affiliated beaches. Still laying on the ground, they press their foreheads together, enjoying the cooled heat and the feeling of each others' bodies.

It was an awful day, but it was both of their day off, and that's really the important thing. Gerard mumbled something about going to Orchard Beach or at least City Island in the Bronx, but Frank promptly reminded him of the time Mikey went and saw heroin addicts shooting up a dead cat for kicks on those beach there. It was really just Playland or bust. Gerard smiles and kisses his boyfriend, tasting the saltwater and childhood memories all over his lips. Propped up on their elbows, they lazily pick up small and useless shovels that remained unused, the somewhat effiminte beach bag (it was Donna's old bad from the seventies) quickly filling itself.

In the span of six hours, Frank managed to get bit by several fire ants, hit by two wayward beach balls and a football, and when he tried to kiss his older love, he was stared at by a band four seven-year-olds – each with a plastic, waterproof Polaroid camera. He entertained himself by giving bread to passing seagulls, until one got too friendly and sliced Frank's finger with it's beak, in the attempts of getting the bread in Frank's hand from his inedible sandwich.

Gerard was pretty content, for the most part, minus the face that they were going to be uncomfortable for the whole ride back, but there was a motel and Gerard faintly remembered packing a credit card in his emergency glove box. Although it wouldn't work in paying for a can of Coke, it'd definitely work for renting out a motel and making things up to his pouting boyfriend. And he was really, really not interested in the New Jersey road traffic and the congestion along the turnpike. But he kept this to himself and simply mused at his frustrated young love – who was wiping sand that had blown into his face in aggravation as he tried to fold the damp beach towels.

As much as Frank frustrated the hell out of him, he couldn't help but love his clumsy, vernal boy in his quiet moments; while he slept in their bed, when he woke up in the morning. When he watched Gerard draw, the hyperactive youth suddenly silent as he observed Gerard create whole worlds that stemmed from his mind. It was for these pieces of Frank that Gerard stayed so attached – from the year that Gerard got out of art school and Frank was a mere seventeen, all the way up to now, they still meshed. Frank gave him a tired smile as they got up, and Gerard bent forwards to plant a firm kiss on his forehead. God, he loved Frank, for whatever bad luck, childlike irresponsibility, and sweet domesticity he brought into his life.

“I love you” Gerard says, pulling his wet, somewhat miserable boy in for another salty kiss. Frank smiles into him, happy and tired, and very ready for a car ride home – or at least, to get somewhere to be clean. The cruel seagulls caw in the distance and that obnoxious little snot of a lifeguard had finally went home, along with everyone else on the beach. Frank whispers a little “I love you, too,” but makes sure to add a little comment about his disdain for the shore. Gerard rolls his eyes and offers his hand, which Frank takes, abandoning the plastic umbrella to blow listlessly in the wind.

And so, the two talked out of Playland, Frank giggling to himself as he put his hand at Gerard's lower back. Gerard smiles, totally unaware at the stares he is getting from the few people working there, totally unaware of the words 'marry me' written in tan lines, sun burns, and faded sunblock, and totally unaware of the appropriated and crude outline of Frank's penis, also created with tan lines and burn marks. But overall, it was just a typical day at the beach for two men, who really were boys, and who might love each other forever – if their own stubbornness and bad Karma didn't kill them first.
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