FicWad

“Frank…” The sly voice flowing into his ear gave him shivers. He was too tired to decipher who it was, but all he knew was that mischief was in the root of their thoughts. He turned onto his side, his pathetic excuse for a blanket not covering his feet, and his boxer shorts all bunched up from his restless night. He looked at his little alarm clock, the red light which was the only color in the pitch black room morphed to for a 3:00am. He cursed. What the fuck was wrong with this person?

“The want hell you!” Frank’s mind wasn’t quite in gear yet; therefore his words came out jumbled and undecipherable. A chuckle was heard, and he felt the person crawl into the bed; their weight causing him to shift in his attempt to go back to sleep.

“I have to tell you…” He felt a finger go up and down his side. He swatted at the hand, and again the chuckle filled his ears.

“I envy you.” He still couldn’t process what was going on, but he knew that whatever it was… it wasn’t good.

“He loves you… I see it every time he looks at you” the voice was so close to his ear, he could feel the warmth of their breath.

“And that’s why… I have to punish him.” The voice became very hostile, and angry. Frank stiffened. Who was he talking about? Frank had the sudden urge to find Gerard and make sure he was alright.

“A light slap on the wrist, because he loves me… Not you. He will never be allowed to love you.” The voice began to soften when he decided ‘he’ will never be allowed to love Frank. Frank was beginning to wake up. They mysterious voice sighed, and Frank felt the weight of the stranger leave his bed. The slow movement of feet leavening the room; and a door closing confirmed it was safe to get up.

He let his feet lightly touch the floor, allowing his eyes to watch his feet for a second. About twenty questions flew through his mind at once. He violently grabbed at his cell phone. He dialed the number he knew by heart. Scratching the back of his neck, he wasn't quite sure what he was doing.

"Hi, you’ve reached Gerard's cell, leave me a message!" He smiled into the darkness. He had been in the room when the vocalist had to re-record that voicemail a dozen times till he stuck with one he was comfortable with.

Now you must know... there’s something strange about Frank. Once he's awake...he's awake. It’s as if theirs a tiny clock inside his head, once he falls asleep it stops, and as soon as he wakes up... it keeps ticking and ticking. He sighed, and threw his cell on the floor. On his way over to his lamp, he knocked over a couple of things. When he finally reached it however, he lazily turned it on covering his eyes to help adjust to the sudden change in light.

He saw the back of his hand, it wasn’t good. It didn’t look good. It was red all around, and painful. Very painful when he moved his hand, this couldn’t be good. He picked up his gloves and threw them on. The guitarist didn’t want anything to remind him of what he did to himself. Instead he focused his energy in finding a certain singer.

He picked up Gerard’s ‘skinny jeans’ and softly moved his fingers over them. He was disappointed in himself. How could he turn down his friend, his crush… no his love. He needed to apologize. Now.

“Gee…Where are you?” He asked the empty room. He sighed and put on the jeans, while he was pulling them up, he felt something. At first he just ignored it, but then it poked him again. He took them off and felt the jeans pockets. He felt something, something thin almost like a card. He pulled it out, puzzled. He looked at it, it was a room key. It came in a case that said Hilton Suite Room 702. He smiled, why didn’t he feel it the other night?

He sat back down on the couch, just looking at it. It came in a little while envelope, it had instructions on how to open the door, he laughed. Who needed those? Then he turned over the envelope. His smile faded fast as he saw the small print at the bottom. Please return both keys to the front at checkout. He shot up, and quickly pulled the pants on, grabbing the closest shirt he could find. If there where two keys… then Gerard must have the other one! He was going to find him.

He got into his car, and raced for the highway. He was high on nothing more than love. His mind was racing as fast as his car. He wanted to find him, make sure everything was okay. Make sure that he was forgiven; make sure he’s not dead. Then doubt decided to pour into his mind. What did he think he was doing? The singer probably didn’t want to see him. Before he could second guess it and turn home, he was in the parking lot. He let what little air he had in his lungs escape. Once out of the car, he looked up at the tall building. There were many windows, only a few with lights on.

He stormed into the hotel, glancing to the left and then to the right. The lounge was beautiful; it had an assortment of couches, and chairs. The walls where cream, the furniture was red and the floor was a dark wood. He looked over the counter at the young girl working. She performed her fake smile and asked him if he needed anything. He quickly walked over there, raking his hand through his hair as he asked where room 702 was.

“Right this way, sir” She lead him to an elevator. It was excluded, and secretive. Without the girl (Rachel her name tag said) leading him to it, he would never have seen it. Once in the elevator, she took him to floor 27, the top floor. The ride was indeed more awkward then needed, but he shook it of. His mind was on Gerard. The ding of the elevator made him jump, the girl stifled a giggle, but he just smiled at her. She led him to room 702 and asked him if there was anything else he needed. Frank smiled, thanked her, tipped her, and dismissed her. He let his hand linger on the doorknob, like the beginning of this whole adventure. His misfits gloves where just frozen there, he wanted so badly to open the door, and charge in and just hug, kiss, and so much more to Gerard. Finally, he swiped the card, and opened the door. He held his breath and walked in. His face twisted into disgust at what he saw. There were vodka bottles everywhere, but that’s not what bothered him… they where all empty. Panic filled his features as he looked in the bathroom, puke stained the toilet seat, it looked, and smelled fresh.

“Gerard?” He called, afraid of what he was to find. He walked forward, into the gigantic suite. There where two floors, a ‘living room’ was on the main floor, with a TV and a blanket scrunched up on a couch, as if someone was just sleeping there. The kitchen was filled with food, but none of it was eaten, but the table was clattered with bottles of beer, and vodka.

“Gerard!” He screamed at the top of his lungs. He turned around, and walked over to the stairs. He then saw the drunk and rancid singer. He put his hand over his mouth. He was on the floor. His hair was a mess, matted and sticking to his face. The singer half waved to the appalled guitarist.

“Ay, buddy!” He said, trying to get up. He got half way to his knee before falling down on top of Frank. Frank caught him, and did the first step to helping his friend.

“Let’s clean you up.” He said, dragging him to the couch. He left him there while he cleaned up the bathroom, and started a bath. When he went back to the couch, where the singer was left, he was disappointed to see a half empty bottle of alcohol in the drunken man’s hand. He ran over and gingerly removed it from Gerard’s possession. He sighed and looked him over, making sure he wasn’t injured. There was some bruising around his neck, and a hand mark on his cheek. He felt anger build up inside him. But for now, all he could do was wait till the wasted singer was sober again.


“What have you gotten yourself into?” He whispered as he dragged his friend into the bathroom and instructed him to take a bath. He shut the door, and let the singer bath himself. Meanwhile, he took control and started cleaning up everything. He got rid of all the alcohol and removed anything that was harmful. About forty-five minutes later, the guitarist knocked on the bathroom door.

“’Ho is it?” he said like a little child. Frank smiled; Gerard could be hilarious when completely wasted.

“It’s me” He replied. “Are you okay?” He heard a large thud, and rushed into the room, the singer had tried to get out of the tub, and had failed miserably, falling and landing on his ass. The guitarist couldn’t help but be entranced by his friends body. He was so beautiful. It was wrong to think these thoughts, he knew, but it was so hard.

“Need some help?” Frank asked, as seriously as he could, considering the rising tension in his pants. The singer looked up, and smiled. He nodded and Frank had no choice but to bite his lip as hard as he could to keep himself thinking the oh so good, but dangerous thoughts. When they finally got the singer to the couch, Gerard shook his head and pouted.

“What?” Frank asked, still concentrating on getting his lower half to calm down.

“I w’nt to go t’bed” the little boy inside the grown man was persistent. The guitarist brought his friend a robe, and led him up the stairs to the giant bed. Then Gerard stumbled and fell onto the bed, taking the guitarist with him. Gerard giggled, Frank landed right next to him, their faces inches apart. Thousands of things went through the sober mans head.

“Gorgeous” Gerard stated and rubbed his shaking hand against Frank’s cheek. Frank smiled. This couldn’t be happening. Gerard’s lips where suddenly placed roughly on top of Frank’s. The singers tongue begging for entrance. Frank opened his mouth, and let his tongue be attacked. Frank slowly started to lean over the singer, placing his legs on either side of Gerard’s thighs. Gerard moaned into the kiss, and wrapped his arms around Frank’s neck. When they paused for air, Gerard twirled his fingers through Frank’s hair.

“You’re beautiful” Frank said, going straight for the singer’s neck. Gerard arched into his friends kisses, turning his head to the side for further access. Gerard then started to take off Frank’s shirt. Frank stopped him, kissed his neck and looked at the singer.

“I want you” Gerard said. It was the first non-slurred sentence that night. Frank smiled, but on the inside Frank was torn. If he did this... what would he tell Anthony?

Gerard took his hands to the back of Frank’s shirt and slowly took it off. He drew circles on the guitarist chest. Smiling and kissing him again. Frank frowned, he was drunk. He probably didn’t mean any of this.

“Gerard…” He stated, but the sentence was cut off by Gerard gingerly kissing his belly button. Frank moaned and bit his lip. He gently pushed the singer away.

“Gerard, your drunk” Frank stated, closing his eyes and turning his head away. Gerard pouted.

“And what if I am?” He said, crossing his hands across his chest again. Frank looked at him, then at his gloves, still on his hands.

“You don’t mean this” Frank stated, he was probably right. This should be the happiest moment of his life, but how can he take advantage of his friend like this?

“Gerard… we can’t do this. Not here…Not now.” He stated grabbing his shirt and putting it back on.

Gerard sighed. He looked at the clock; it was about five in the morning. Then the singer slowly turned Frank’s face to look at him.

“Then at least lay here with me” He said. The seriousness in his eyes reflected the sadness in Frank’s. Gerard might have been drunk, but he knew what he wanted. He wanted to feel safe. He would never admit it to himself, but the only time he truly felt safe, was when Frank was near him. Frank looked at Gerard, his eyes glazed and watery.

“Gee, what happened?” Frank asked he pushed down the robe to show the marks on his neck. The singer gave a weak smile. Then shook his head and made Frank lay down with him. His face buried in the guitarist’s chest.

“Doesn’t matter now that you’re here” He said, and with that the both of them drifted into sleep. Franks arms found their way around Gerard, he was so close to what he wanted...

Ever so close.