FicWad

The servants have decorated the house according to the season; Christmas. They did a nice job, because same as every year, the head of the Way family hosts a grand celebration in honor of the event.

There is pheasant and peas, a lush feast that will be followed by drink. It's not an occasion Lindsey or Gerard is particularly ecstatic about, but it is a tradition that must be followed every year. Especially this year the feast must be great, under Michael's cold scrutiny. Anyone's behavior will be thoroughly chewed up, and spit out if there is something wrong. With all their combined oddities and irregularities, the queer Way couple and the Ieros must go out of their way to behave to trick the younger way that all is functioning smoothly, dull his mind with false pretenses and convince him everyone is peachy and heterosexual in New Jersey.

There are drinks, guests, and plenty of drunks as the night goes on. Amongst the drunks, or at least very tipsy, is Michael. Most of the womenfolk have left the main party to chatter amongst themselves and gossip, so all in the main room have a mug of ale or a glass of whiskey in hand, mouths boasting in slurs their greatest and latest accomplishments.

Neither Gerard nor Frank drink; they simply cannot risk letting something slip from their alcohol-induced loose tongues. It could literally destroy families.

Gerard and frank mainly converse with one another, trying to control the urge to hug, to touch. It's a clever game of cat and mouse they're playing, and even if Michael is across the room surrounded by admirers flaunting his political success he could still catch them at any time. They do their best not to play. Anything can be seen, overheard and carried on through the many eyes and ears that could lead directly to an early death at the gallows.

So in simple text, no touching, no contact. There's a decent amount of space between the lovers, almost too much. It's the air of awkwardness that comes from trying harder than one should, it's unnatural and fake.

It lasts what seem like for hours, until Michael deems it necessary to make a toast.

"Gerard, my brother!" He slurs. He's got a bottle of alcohol in one hand, and is grinning in a very drunken manner. Very, very drunk. Or perhaps, very, very sly. Because a true American Polotician only grins when they've got something up their sleeve, they're off their rocker or they've won. Gerard sincerely hopes Michael doesn't have some cruel trick up his sleeve.

"Well, I'm going to start this little sermon with a heart-felt 'I'm sorry for your loss." The way he says it doesn't make him appear to be sorry in the least. "I am sorry, now we're down one heir!" He half-jokes.

Gerard feels his stomach turn. There's a stream of insults mixed with the kind words, but the kind words fail to seem anything but revolting to Gerard. it seems almost as if Michael is spitting venom at him, cursing him and yelling at him for being a sinner and he has hardly even said anything. Gerard can't hide himself from the dull pain that Michael places in his chest for safe keeping, he never has been. It's another quality that makes Michael so dangerous.

"There was a time, once, when i thought you were looking at men the wrong way." There's a chorus of gasps and appalled looks, and Gerard and frank's eyes magnify greatly, and their blood runs cold. What does Michael know? There's not even a speck of lies in his eyes; the politician was honestly considering his brother queer, a subject that is taboo just to speak of. And there's been so much speaking go f it thus far already.

"But I refused to give credit to my idea that you could be such a vile pice of, excuse my language, shit."

Gerard blinks as Michael's words sink in. Because as much as Gerard hates his brother, as much as Gerard would like to believe his brother's words don't affect him, they do. They sink down, to the pit of Gerard's stomach as he swallows the offenses he's committed, the hate he's a victim of by default and the love he can't help but have feels twisted and wrong, evil. Loving a man is a sin, a vile sin that should never be committed. But gerard can only grit his teeth and allow his brother to make his point, he can't agree that he's worthless or even defend himself because the words are true.

Michael laughs heartily. "But alas, I'm glad I held my tongue! If I had not, then we would not be here today, celebrating the life of an excellent young girl, whom could not be a product of such a thin g as shameful as homosexuality!"

There are cheers for Michael's speech against queers, shouts of the inhumanity that homosexuals bring to the human race. It's wrong to lay with one of the same sex, vulgar to love someone of the with the same genetallia as your own. All of it soaks into Gerard and he lets it sink deep into him, hiding in his muscles and blood and nerves, crawling into his bones.

frank sighs at the speech, putting his hand on Gerard's forearm. Gerard quickly pulls away and Frank gives him a concerned look. "You all right, Gerard?" Concern and wear fill Frank's voice, and he tries not to let the speech and uttered hate against his kind get to him.

Gerard nods, slowly. "Yes. Yes, of cowrse. I'm quite all right."

But it sounds more like Gerard's trying to convince himself than Frank.

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