FicWad

The first time Frank played for Gerard, it was unexpected and unplanned. It was something sudden, and something Frank wouldn't have done if it had not been for the rush of testosterone and adrenaline he was feeling at the moment.
The melody was beautiful, notes mingling together along with frank's not-so-great nasal voice, forming a perfect imperfection of vocals and chords. Gerard had been surprised, to say at least, because he knows that, for Frank, playing is something private, intimate. Like sex. Something that's passionate and pleasant, but can hurt you if you make it too rough in the first try. Something angry and fast, like metal; or something cheery and with Rhythm, like Pop; or something soft and melodic, like classic.
Frank had been self-conscious after finishing, just realising that it may not have been such a great idea to show Gerard what he could do, what he could make.
It had only been about two weeks since their reconciliation as a so-called couple, after all, and there were still some sore spots they had to work on.

Frank had blushed and stood up with difficulty, thanks to his pregnant state. He had excused himself quickly and left in a rush, to hide in their bedroom and probably never come out again. Gerard had been confused. Frank played beautifully and with skill, unlike nothin he had ever heard. Even if his voice wasn't the best, it was still amazing the way he could do both at the same time.
Gerard had gone after Frank a few minutes later, finding him buried beneath sheets and covers on their bed. Frank had blushed and burrowed himself more in the sheets, but Gerard simply smiled sweetly and, Frank, what's wrong?

Frank had explained to Gerard how he shouldn't have played for him and how he was sorry, and Gerard was a little bit more than hurt. But he sucked it up and shook his head at Frank, cuddling him under the covers and kissing his nose sweetly.

~•~

In return, Gerard decided to sing for Frank. Now, just like with Frank, Gerard's voice was private and intimate.
Just like painting, singing was something he did in private, and was mostly for him to see and hear. In painting, most of the pieces he's sold and exposed had no meaning to him, only images that had projected themselves and deemed good enough to be made into something more than a thought.
But in singing, everything he wrote was sincere and expressive, and there was no public for him to speak to, no one to give a show for.
Gerard was nervous, to say at least.
Frank was still buried inside his makeshift fort when Gerard went to bed. He wasn't asleep, though. Instead, he is quietly and mentally cursing himself for being so fucking stupid.
Gerard chuckles and Frank stops his pity party. Gerard changes and gets into bed, wrapping his arms around frank and plastering himself to Frank's back. Gerard smiles against his neck when Frank makes a protesting sound, still too ashamed to acknowledge the fact that, yes, he enjoys being close to his husband just not in this particular moment.
Gerard kisses his head lovingly and starts to sing, just a little melody he composed just for Frank to hear.

As he nears the last verse he's sure that Frank's attention is now all for himself, and he feels himself blushing at the thought of what he's doing, of what a secret he's giving Frank knowledge for. But Gerard owes him this, and he won't chicken out on the middle of the action.
So he finishes, and when he kisses Frank it's with a newfound pride and knowledge of what each other can do, of each other's passions.

too late.
Excuse the Panic! At The Disco reference on the last chapter, btw.
xo
-C