FicWad

I have sun burnt my butt. Don't ask how, but it is bright red, and it hurts to sit down properly. Ok, I'm sure that's something you didn't need or want to know, but there you go.

Fuck it.

I'm not burnt - I'm impersonating a lobster.

Anyway, le chapter 6!

Sx





Frank woke up before Gerard the next morning, something he was glad of. He needed to get his thoughts in order.

He hadn't really expected to get much out of the singer last night, and he hadn't. It was progress, sure. At least the other man now knew that he had someone he could talk to, someone who had some idea what was going on. Although, to be honest, Way should have known that since day one.

The guitarist rolled over in his bed, eyes still closed and sighed to himself. He wished that he had one of his dogs with him - simply for the comfort they provided. They were all back in Cali' though, staying with Jamia.

Frank snorted as he thought of that. Having to figure out who got which dog had just about been the hardest part of the divorce. It may be slightly ridiculous, but Iero seriously missed the ones that his wife had got. Thank fuck they didn't have kids - they'd have never have been able to sort that one out.

The man smiled at the thought, debating whether to call his ex-wife. As previously stated, they were still good friends, even in the midst of the divorce, they had remained amicable, and Frank was grateful for that. It made the whole separation ten times easier.

All the same time, calling her now probably wasn't the best idea in the world. He guessed it was about six in the morning, (mostly due to the lack of sound of human activity, and somehow, it just felt early. Besides he could tell there wasn't much light in the room, even through his closed lids) and God did the woman enjoy her lie ins. Anyway, the main thing he wanted to talk to her about was Gerard - who was asleep in the next bed. If he woke up part way through that conversation, it'd just be awkward for everyone.

So Iero just sighed and cracked an eyelid open. As he'd suspected, the room was dimly lit from the small cracks of light that bled around the sides of the shitty blind he'd drawn the previous night. The clock next to his bed read half five, so he wasn't far off on his guess.

The guitarist sighed upon seeing the clock - no human should ever be up this early, it wasn't natural. His sleep patterns always got messed up when they were on tour; some nights he'd sleep for twelve hours solid, and wake up feeling all fucked up and grotty. Other nights would be like this one, and he'd pass out for a few scant hours, and have to nap for the rest of the day in order to feel ready for the show. All the guys got hit by insomnia from time to time, but for him, it was almost expected. He'd been prescribed sleeping pills, but all they did was increase the number of nights spent sleeping until noon.

Now, he sat on his bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning, but knowing that unless someone hit him over the head particularly hard, he had no chance of losing consciousness again.

As noted, Gerard was still asleep - curled up under the sheets in a small ball and breathing deeply. Iero chuckled upon seeing his friend was dribbling slightly. Well, he couldn't have gotten much sleep the previous night.

Frank was saddened to think this; of the supposed boyfriend Way had told him about yesterday. He still wasn't sure he believed the singer, but that didn't mean he wasn't jealous.

And what about the eating habits? Ok, Gerard had never really been greedy - not in the time that Iero had known him for at least - but he'd lost a substantial amount of weight. What was more, he'd covered it up. The guitarist had noticed on the first day back on tour, but hadn't thought of it again until last night. Which meant that the singer had done a pretty good job of covering up.

Of course, there was still the completely out of character muteness that seemed to have inflicted the singer on the first few days. Where the hell had that come from?

Frank sat there now, gazing at Way as though he expected him to start babbling the answers that the guitarist wanted in his sleep.

Obviously, he didn't.

Iero was going to get them though. And even if he didn't, he was going to help his friend get over whatever was bothering. It was simply the divorce, it could be difficult on account of the guitarist having no idea as to the cause behind it.

He wondered whether Mikey knew, and if he'd tell him if he did. Then Iero remembered back to just before the first show - when he'd confessed that he had no idea. He could have been bluffing, if course, but Frank somehow doubted that. What he wasn't so sure of, though, was whether the bassist had any idea about what was going on with his brother now. The Ways had always been very aware of one another, and Frank was sure the younger wouldn't have missed this. However, he didn't seem to be too worried about it, or overly concerned when Gerard disappeared after the concert.

Unless... Perhaps this whole thing was just Frank reading too much in to the situation. He was thinking about Gerard so much, he could have made a problem that didn't exist, so he could help the singer - gain his attention.

Great - now he was becoming paranoid.

In spite of Frank's misgivings, as it turned out, Mikey was awake two hours after the guitarist (not that he was aware of this) and his mind immediately turned to his older brother.

He was worried too. He knew something was wrong, he just yet to put his finger on it. Like Iero, he'd noticed Gerard's weight loss, and was worried about it. On top of that, his older sibling just hadn't been acting right since the tour had began. Hell, since his divorce - and maybe even a short while before that.

Mikey didn't know the reasons behind the separation, but he wasn't stupid. Whatever was haunting Gerard at the moment was because of those reasons, as much so as the actual divorce.

He was burning to do something - it was killing him inside that he couldn't just sit down with Gerard and find out what the fuck was going on with his brother. He'd tried that a few times now, and each had ended badly, the older sibling even cried after one episode. So as much as Mikey wanted to help, he knew that it was out of his reach. Gerard wasn't going to open up to him anytime soon.

Despite this, there was a plan in action. Ray had spoken to him yesterday, telling about Frank's concern. The two had come to the conclusion pretty quickly that the guitarist's worry went beyond that of a friend's - even a very good one. The fact that he'd asked Toro not to get involved just confirmed this.

Whilst it had slightly unnerved the bassist to find out the younger man had such feelings for his brother, it wasn't a surprise. He didn't care either - especially not if it'd help Gerard get over the state of mind he was in at the moment. Mikey had seen this before, and knew his sibling was a small push away from becoming depressed again. Admittedly, it wasn't an over night thing, but the bassist recognized the warning signs.

Feeling slightly disgruntled, Way rolled out of bed. He took a quick shower, before going outside for a smoke. It was still early, but some of the crew was there, smoking and talking idly, or chewing on toast from the breakfast counter. Mikey somehow wasn't in the mood for socializing, so passed with a wave. Around the deserted back of the building, he stopped and leaned on the wall for a smoke. He loved being on tour as much as the rest of them, but it was exhausting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mikey's point was inadvertently proved for the rest of the day. They were all up by half nine, and crowded on to the bus. Frank didn't appear to have slept very well, and was acting moody the entire time. Gerard seemed a bit perkier at least, and Ray... well, Ray was the best tempered out of all of them.

Then the bus was moving - which was expected, being a bus and all. But then it wasn't. Instead, they were stuck in a traffic jam, which had tail back several miles long. Apparently there had been a pile up, and the drivers hadn't heard about in time to plan a detour. And now they were stuck, and it was looking like they'd be late for tonight's show, if they made it at all.

This was making everyone increasingly antsy.

"Just calm down Frank, we'll make it," Mikey was saying. His time wasn't soothing though. It was harsh and annoyed.

"No!" The guitarist snapped back. "What are we going to do? We can't cancel - but what if we don't get there?"

"Look, I've posted on the site." Ray said. He was being his usual laid back self. With the rest of the guys always being so emotional, it had been his job since the beginning to keep the peace. He didn't mind too much - he rarely got riled up anyway, so it was easy to be the calm one in situations like this. "The fans will see it, and know what's going on. We can re-fund and pass through here again."

"Great! It's about our fifth show, and we're already cancelling!" Iero snapped.

"Well, what do you want to do?" Mikey demanded. "Walk?"

"Well, it's better than sit around doing nothing!"

"Ok, so carry the drums kit, all the guitars, the synths, my bass! And then we're ready to go!"

"Guys, calm down!" Ray cut in. "Look, there's nothing we can do, okay?" He turned to glare at the younger guitarist. "Frank, go and get some rest, seriously. You've been cranky all day, and it's not making things any better. You won't be able to play the show at this rate, even if we do get there!"

Iero glared at the other man for a moment, then turned and walked in to the sleeping area. Ray settled back in his seat, and glared at the Ways. "If you two start fighting, I'm going to rip my hair out." He said, feeling seriously like a parent.

Mikey just rolled his eyes, and Gerard shrugged, then the younger Way followed Frank into the bunk section. Toro was about to stop him, but figured the two were (supposedly) grown men. They could sort it out themselves

As though reading his mind, the singer raised an eyebrow at his friend. Ray chose to ignore him in favor of the nearest magazine. It was Playboy.

Of course.

In the sleeping area, Frank had kicked off his shoes and collapsed fully clothed in to bed. After his unnecessarily early start, he was exhausted, and Toro's idea did not seem like a bad one right about now.

He was just settling down when Mikey walked in after him. The guitarist was about to snap again, expecting the other man to continue their argument. Way cut him off though.

"I'm sorry for yelling dude? I'm as stressed as you about this."

Frank smiled softly. "It's fine man. I had a shitty night's sleep last night."

"Was my brother snoring?" The bassist chuckled.

"Yeah, seriously - it sounded like there was a train going through the room every second."

Way laughed. He knew Gerard didn't snore. They'd shared a room when they were younger, and a van when My Chem was first starting. Even when they got bigger, Mikey would still share a hotel room with his brother, and obviously, they all slept on the bus together. If his sibling snored, the bassist was either deaf, stupid, or a very deep sleeper.

The bus jolted slightly as the engine came on, and began to roll forward. It was only slowly, but was improvement on the last hour or so.

"See?" Way said, after a moment of silence between the two men. "We'll be there in no time."

"Not at this speed." Frank grumbled. Then he kicked off his jeans and climbed under the sheets. "I'm fucking exhausted."

"Get some sleep," Mikey suggested, turning to walk back in to the living area. "Night."

The guitarist snorted. "Night."

They did make the show on time in the end, but Frank didn't get any sleep. Because of this he was still moody when they reached the venue, snapping at everyone who even dared to look at him funny. Out of everyone, it had to of course be Gerard he pissed off the most, and the two men were yelling for half an hour solid, until someone told the singer to shut up, for the sake of not wearing his voice out for the show. No one was even sure what it was that that they were so riled up about.

It was a stupid argument they'd had, but Way was still pissed off at the end of concert. Frank just gave the other two a look like 'what did I do?' They just shook their heads, unable to understand what it was the guitarist had said to make Gerard be quite so angry.

As this happened, the singer locked himself in the dressing room, out of sight and hearing range of his crew and band mates. Then he pulled out his cell phone.

He quickly scrolled through his contacts, until he got to the unnamed one - the number saved with no identity attached to it. After pressing the 'call' button, he held the small device to his ear, listening to it ring once, twice, three times... six in total before the recipient picked up.

"Hey Gerard." It was a man's voice, low and gruff, and sounding slightly distracted.

"Hi Stephen." Was the singer's reply.

"What can I do for you man?"

"You know what," Way said coyly, making his voice flirtatious.

Stephen chuckled on the other end of the line. "Shoulda guessed. I really do love you at times like this." Gerard snorted at the slightly warped compliment. "Look, let me just see what time's good, when are you free?"

"The next hotel night isn't for another week, I don't think. Errm, Tuesday night, but I'm not sure. And fuck only knows where we'll be staying. We should be in Vegas by then."

"Find out where abouts, ok? There's not much I can do for you without knowing."

"I will," Way promised. "I'll see you whenever, yeah?"

"Uhuh, text me when you find out where you're staying and what night it is for sure."

"Okay, bye."

"See you, sweet cheeks," And then he hung up.

Gerard stared at his phone for a few seconds, then shrugged.

He was feeling slightly guilty about what he'd just done, but after his argument with Frank, and the debacle yesterday, he was craving some company. He knew what he had was an addiction more than anything else, but he couldn't help it - this was one he didn't have the perseverance or the motivation to do so. Plus, it made him feel better, and no one knew about it in order to tell him to stop.

The singer spent a few more minutes in the dressing room, then emerged when he felt calmer. Frank was sitting just outside, knees drawn up and looking worried. When Gerard came out, he jumped to his feet, looking extremely conscience-stricken. In normal circumstances, Way would have laughed, and said the whole thing was stupid - which it was really. His own guilt from the conversation he'd just had had gotten to him though, and he vented it as anger.

"Look, I'm sorry man - I'm just feeling tired, and shitty and I was being stupid." The guitarist said in a babble, pleading with his eyes for the singer to forgive him.

"It's fine, whatever," Way shrugged it off, but in such a manner that Frank knew it wasn't 'fine' at all. He couldn't even understand what he had done to make the singer so pissed off. So he just stood and watched helplessly as the man walked away from him.

The tension remained over the next week. Frank and Gerard remained amicable, but the closeness they'd felt in the hotel room that night was gone. In fact, the two felt further apart than they had been in years.

Way full well knew the cause of this - far from innocent behavior had created a rift between them, and he couldn't bridge it without admitting what was going on with him. However, that wasn't something he was prepared to do, and so the two men barely spoke.

On the side-lines, Mikey and Ray were just as concerned. The guitarist still felt that it was best to leave them - let them sort out their problems between them. The younger man, however, was naturally worried for his brother, and found it hard to just watch and not intervene. Especially when Gerard's eyes were following Iero everywhere, with a look of longing in his eyes.

Frank did a much better job of hiding his emotions, (not that either Mikey or Ray knew for sure they existed) but really, the two should just be locked in a dark room somewhere and be forced to make up.

If it only it was that easy - if only Gerard's only problem was just getting in his friend's pant. But nobody was stupid, and it was obvious that they went well beyond this.

And things were about to take a turn for the worse.

It was their hotel night - the one in Vegas. Gerard had purposefully taken the room as far away from the others as possible. Iero had frowned at this, guessing what was going to happen tonight. He didn't know what he could say about it, though, not with the rest of the crew and band there.

Like the last time he'd had something to hide, Way had kept away from the guitarist, out of the fear of what the younger man would say. He made it to his hotel room without any intervention, and when Frank had knocked, he'd peered through the spy-hole and ignored him. He just prayed that his friend would give up waiting before anyone showed up. That wouldn't end well.

Eventually, Iero did leave, and all Gerard had left to do was wait.

Soon enough, there came another knock to the door. He peeked through the small glance just to check it wasn't Frank again. It wasn't, but that didn't mean he didn't recognize the man on the other side of the door. It was Bert McCracken.

What the fuck?

Way hadn't seen the other man in years, and then, they hadn't exactly been on speaking terms. What the other singer was doing here now was beyond him.

Gerard opened the door carefully, peering through. Bert appeared to be uncomfortable, and was staring down the corridor as though expecting (and dreading) someone to walk down it and start accusing him of some heinous crime. The older man cleared his throat, and McCracken jumped, turning around to gaze at his old friend.

"So it is true," He muttered under his breathe.

"Bert?" Gerard gaped, still shocked at the sudden appearance. "What are you doing here?"

The other frontman frowned and shook his head. "This isn't a conversation I want to have in a hotel corridor."

Way copied his frown - his more one of confusion though - and held the door open, wondering if this was some awful mistake on his part. Bert walked in, tentively. He was unsure of himself; not something that happened often in Gerard's experience.

"What are you going here?" Way repeated his question when the other man was in the room, and the bedroom door was firmly shut.

McCracken shifted, not sure how to phrase his answer. Part of him was just screaming at him to get out of there - just let Gerard continue to screw himself over. It would only be what the singer had done to him, so many years back. But the more compassionate side of him, didn't let the younger frontman leave. Especially now he was here, his conscience wouldn't let him go.

"I heard..." He started, avoiding Way's eyes which were piercing holes in him. "One of my friends was going on about how he was getting laid tonight." Gerard's gaze dropped; he knew where this was going. "And of course, he wasn't just screwing anyone. It was that singer - the one from My Chemical Romance."

Gerard was at loss for words. He trusted Stephen to keep the whole thing quiet - from the public eye and from the rest of his band. It had never occurred to him that someone else he knew might find out. It wasn't as though the men he had been sleeping with knew his mother.

Apparently, though, they did know Bert McCracken.

"What's it to you?" The older man asked.

"Fuck only knows." He threw his hands up. "I didn't believe it when he told me, but he was pretty insistent. In the end, I persuaded him to let me go instead, I had to see if it was true."

"Great," Way said bitterly. "I guess you've got your story now, just run along to the nearest magazine that'll offer you a good price for it."

"What?" Bert looked up, startled. "I wouldn't do that Gerard!"

The other man looked at him considering for a moment. Then he hung his head, and dropped back on to the bed. "I guess it's not the way you roll."

"Yeah - glad you got that figured out."

The two sat in silence for a good ten minutes, neither knowing what to say. Bert wanted to ask Way what the hell was going on - why was he acting like some sort of prostitute? But after not speaking to someone for a good six years, it wasn't exactly the sort of thing you could just throw out there. Gerard... he wanted to apologize for all the shit that went down between them, but his pride was getting in the way.

So they both just sat there, waiting for the other man to break the awkward silence that had settled over them. In the end, it was the My Chemical Romance singer that spoke first.

"Look, I'm sorry. For what happened on Warped. I was being a dick, and things, just went to shit."

"Yeah, they did." Bert murmured. "It's fine- well it's not, but I'm over it okay? It was years ago, and water under the bridge and all that."

"Thanks," Way smiled at the easy acceptance of his apology.

And now that that had passed, McCracken was ready to find out what was going on.

"Dude, what's up? I mean, Terry, he said he found out where you were staying off some guy called... fuck, I can't even remember. But, I mean, it's like you're a whore or something, the way he worded it."

Gerard sighed. "I... things have just been completely messed up since Lindsey left. And yeah, this friend of mine Stephen, he helps me hook up with guys." By the end of the little confession, he'd turned bright red, and all the guilt and shame he'd been feeling over the last few months caught up with him again. This had been the first person he'd admitted it to, and was thoroughly humiliated.

Bert's mouth was hanging open at the other man's revelation. Took a moment to collect his thoughts - and vaguely remembered that the girl Gerard had ended up marrying was called Lindsey. Despite his attempts, he couldn't form a coherent reply anyway. "What? Why?"

"I just... Since Linds' left, I've just been feeling really lonely and shitty, and it helps you know? Makes you feel like someone does want you - is attracted to you I mean. Wants to be close." Way explained haltingly.

"So you, sell yourself?" McCracken still couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

"I didn't know Stephen was charging for it." Gerard shrugged. "I'm just in it for the sex."

"Man, that is fucked up," The younger man collapsed back on bed next to his... whatever the other singer was to him now.

"I know," He sounded miserable, which Bert supposed was at least something. Showed he wanted to quit.

"Then... why don't you just get yourself a boyfriend? Or girlfriend, or something?"

"Easier this way. No emotional strings attached."

"Doesn't seem like that. You sure as hell ain't happy with this."

"No," Gerard confessed. "I hate it, but it's like the drugs you know? I didn't want them, but they made me feel better, and I couldn't stop."

"Yeah, I know the feeling exactly," Bert shook his head. "Look at us. We haven't spoken in years, and now here we are having a right little heart-to-heart."

"You always were a good listener." The older man smiled. "Thanks dude... and I really am sorry."

"Forget about it," McCracken waved the apology away. "What are you going to do about this though?"

"I don't know. Fuck myself into oblivion?" The tone was hopeful.

"Sound's like an idea!" Bert laughed, then came to his senses. "No - it doesn't. Tell, what's his face - the guitarist, Ray? He was always the smart one."

"The man with the plan." Gerard snickered.

"Exactly."

"I don't wanna tell him though. I mean, I've got a fucking sex addiction! The only two people it'd be worse to tell are Mikey and Lindsey!"

"What about Frank then, or Bob?"

"Bob left."

"Oh, yeah. I heard about that actually." The singer paused. "Well, tell Frank then. Or one of the crew who you've toured with before. Someone who'll be around to keep you in line."

"No," Way shook his head. "None of the crew would get it. And I'm not telling Frank."

Bert frowned. "Do you still like him?" He remembered the two other men having a fling a while back, but wasn't sure what had happened in the end.

Gerard just groaned.

"Dude, you are so fucked."

"I know!" The elder front man half shouted. "I still love Lindsey to bits, and what I wouldn't give to get back with her, and at the same time, Frank's always there, and I'm like 'well, maybe I should just get with him', but why would he want to be with me? And how do I know my feelings for him aren't just a rebound thing anyway?"

"Well, when did you start liking him again?"

Way flushed again. "Just before things started getting bad with Lindsey." Okay, so it definitely wasn't a rebound thing.

"Well, there you go then," Bert responded. Then he paused, before saying; "Hang on, did that have something to do with your divorce?"

Gerard nodded miserably.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well," McCracken said considering. "He got divorced a while back. Just talk to him. The worst he can do is reject you."

"Bert - you know me." Gerard moaned. "There's no way in hell I'll get the guts to do that. Not unless I'm completely strung out! And if I am, it's not like he's gonna believe me anyway!"

"Grow a pair," Was the younger man's only advice.

"Thanks."

For the next two hours, the men continued to talk, just catching up on one another's lives. Gerard hadn't known that Bert had married, and the latter was shocked to find they had released their fourth album.

"How did I not hear about it?!" He'd exclaimed.

Eventually, their conversation died down to a quiet whisper. They were both exhausted and the talk was slow and disjointed. After a while, Bert stood, smiling down at the man lying on the bed.

"It was nice to see you again, Gee. Bury the hatchet, you know?"

"Yeah, we'll have to get our two bands together at some point, make up properly."

McCracken laughed softly. "I'll be seeing you, then."

"Stay," Gerard said, even softer.

Bert hesitated. "I don't think I should."

"Come on man, it's like two in the morning, and you're out of it. You're just gonna crash, or get hit by a car if you go now." The younger man ran a hand through his hair, considering the offer. "I'm not asking for sex or anything, I just don't want you to get hurt. Plus, it's nice having you around."

"I really shouldn't," McCracken said, but kicked his shoes off anyway.

Way smiled and copied him, before grabbing his bag and going into the bathroom. "Do you want a toothbrush or anything?"

"I'm fine," Bert laughed, and pulled his jeans off. There was no way in hell he was sleeping in them.

He slid under the covers just as Gerard appeared again, wearing a pair of pajamas. The older singer smiled, before joining his newly refound friend. It was great feeling, being on good terms with Bert again after all these years. It was an added bonus that he didn't have to feel alone tonight, but knew that the other man wasn't here just to have the honor of fucking a celebrity.

Way's last thought before sinking in to sleep: Thank goodness it was a double bed.




On that note, if you haven't seen Rock Of Ages yet - GO TO THE CINEMA!!! It's actually my new favourite movie as of Friday. And Russel Brand is an epic win. The main character - the blonde girl - annoys me intensely though.

Still...

Cheesy storyline - check
Some really impressive pole dancing (that's something I thought I'd never thought I'd say) - check
Gay kiss - check
Hair metal - check, check, check
Russel Brand wearing eye-liner and not married to The Thing (aka Katy Perry) - check!

GO SEE!

Sx