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Chapter 8 – Pretty, Pretty Boy

Bert sulkily leaned against the elevator wall, wishing he could melt into it. He felt Ray’s chocolate glazed eyes burning into the back of his skull. If it hadn’t been for Quinn, he knew Ray would have been at his throat right now, quite literally. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Quinn, everyone would have known about the whole drug situation. He had somehow convinced Ray to just talk to Gerard first before spilling the bean bag to Mikey, or anyone else. Bert breathed a loud sigh and let his eyes trail over to the flashing numbers up top near the ceiling. One more floor until certain doom. Bert’s fingers crawled into his pocket, clutching the fabric to relieve his stress. A loud “ding!” made him nearly jump out of his skin. The doors slid open, revealing the passageway to hell. The three men simply stood for a few seconds, staring at each other. It was then that Bert’s genius of a brain began to whir. He darted to the side of the elevator. He quickly punched in all of the numbers his fingers could possibly touch. Using both the knowledge of his plan and his speed as advantages, he ran out of the elevator before Ray (or Quinn, for that matter) had any idea what was going on.

“You stupid motherf—!” Ray shouted before his voice was completely cut off.

By now, Bert’s heart was thumping so loudly that he was pretty sure it could be heard all the way on the other side of the world. He hurriedly gathered his thoughts in a bunch and shook them out through his ear. He left behind only one; find Gerard.

Gerard lay with his back against a soft mattress. His system had been completely polluted with crystal meth, along with some extra booze he had found in Bert’s bag. All worried thoughts had been washed away from his mind. Why did he need to be upset anyway? He was a successful musician, tons of girls—not to mention guys—loved him, and his hair was amazing... He pretty much had the whole world resting in the palm of his hand, begging to be twirled with his godly fingers. Sighing happily, he caressed himself in between the bed sheets. To his utter annoyance, his peace was interrupted by a frantic sounding knock on the door. This time sighing with displeasure, he rolled off the bed. His footsteps were slow as he approached the door. His guest seemed to be getting a little impatient by the sound of it, but who really gave fuck?

“Who is it?” he sang out.

“It’s Santa Clause! Who do you think it is? Open the fucking door. We’re in deep shit,” a familiar voice said.

Gerard pulled on the door handle, greeting Bert with a grin. He had left the memory of their fight somewhere in the back of his mind, bound up where it couldn’t escape, “Why, Santa, you’ve lost a lot of weight. And I’m loving the whole black haired, druggy look on you. Very cute.”

Bert’s expression held no sign of amusement. He began to walk into the room as he rambled, “Listen, we’re gonna have to forget about what happened earlier cause uh...I might have accidentally let it slip to Ray that um...you’re on drugs...so...we really gotta get the hell out of here. I don’t think we have a lotta time before he finds us. I mean, I threw him off a little with the whole elevator thing...but...it’s not gonna last. We have to clean up, get my drugs outta here. And you have to act like you’re not on anything. Actually, just get out this room and stay away from Ray for as long as possible. Can you do that? Because if you can’t, we’re totally screwed. And if...”

Bert’s obnoxious tone ringing into his ears disturbed Gerard’s previous state of mind. He honestly didn’t care if Ray knew about his drugs. If he wanted to, he was certain that he could beat the afroed man up to assure that Mikey never found out. He managed to drone out Bert’s talking by staring into his blue eyes. They were very pretty, yes. His eyes gazed admiringly over the rest of Bert’s body as the man bent down to stuff all the crystal things into a bag. The guy was hot, no doubt about it. He was almost as hot as Gerard for goodness’ sake! It was just that he was so irritating when he spoke. Gerard wished Bert’s mouth would be moving for a different reason. This thought made him giggle, much like a little girl who’d spotted a couple kissing. Kissing, of course, was what he wanted to be doing in the first place. He reconsidered it and realized that no one was really holding him back.

Bert rose from the floor, still wearing a panicked look as he swung a duffel bag over his bony shoulder. He spotted a strange expression in Gerard’s eyes and stopped all movement.

Gerard’s hazel eyes sparkled as he took a step forward, pushing Bert against the wall. He heard the blue-eyed man moan out of surprise. A smile stretched its way onto his lips, even as his tongue was kept busy. Time slowed down in order to make the moment more enjoyable. His foot felt the impact of Bert’s bag falling while two arms wrapped around his waist. He would have taken it further than that if Bert hadn’t completely contradicted himself by pulling away soon after. Gerard frowned, only upturning his lip in a slightly teasing manner.

Bert was in a daze but he managed to pant out fragments of his thoughts, “God! Fucking amazing...not now...Ray...gotta get outta here.”

Gerard smirked, leaning in to softly rest his lips on Bert’s cheek. On that flirtatious note, he waved his magical fingers before strolling out the door. His feet seemed to have minds of their own as they carried him down four flights of stairs before he even decided on his destination. He figured he might as well go to the bar; get a little more drunk and find someone good to fuck. He approached the golden swinging doors leading into the bar in a matter of minutes. Momentarily, he felt guilty because Bert had looked like he needed to be comforted just minutes ago. His mind changed when he figured out that it was Bert’s own fault he wanted to fret over Ray instead of having fun. He calmly walked inside and then grinned widely upon spying a certain someone.

Frank sat all in a booth in the bar, taking small sips of a peach martini. He had coped with his prior misery by “accidentally” bumping into an attractive brunette who happened to be extremely drunk. His heart was still in shreds, thinking about what Gerard had said merely an hour ago, but the girl’s drunken rambling was enough to keep him laughing to cover all that up. The moment she had departed to get another beer though, the hurt came rushing back. It partly had to do with the fact that Gerard stepped into the scene with a large smirk on his face. Frank attempted to place his head turned sideways so that the black-haired man wouldn’t recognize him. However, he knew in a second that his effort was futile.

“Frankie!” Gerard yelled right in his ear.

Frank’s breath got stuck trying to leave his lungs. He moved over to the corner of the booth, as far away from Gerard as possible. Nevertheless, Gerard didn’t seem to get the message. He sneaked his arms around Frank’s shoulder, pulling him close and kissing his head gently. Frank could have dissolved into his martini. A small balloon of hope inflated in his chest. He inhaled, getting a strong dose of Gerard’s alcohol tainted breath. His balloon was squeezed until it let out all his hopes like a whoosh of air. Of course. Gerard was intoxicated with whatever Bert had given him, not to mention beer. Frank felt like all his attempts to forget about Gerard had gone to waste. Now, he wanted to cry again. His green eyes threatened to leak. He squirmed in Gerard’s grasp, expending a lot of energy in unsuccessful shots to break free. He was pulled back constantly, as if strings were attached to his body. He was like a goddamned marionette, hanging down by thin strings and letting others toss him around without a word of protest. He knew he was being used, yet there was nothing to do about it because he was such a fucking wimp. Finally, he gave up.

“Gerard,” he said as calmly as possible, “What the hell is your problem?”

Gerard could have groaned out of frustration. He wished Frank wasn’t so sentimental. But, he knew in his heart that the only way he’d get this conversation to a fun place was if he pretended to care. His blinked his eyes, coating them with a thin film of salty water. He turned Frank around by the shoulders and tilted his head forward, puckering his lips slightly.

“Problem? My problem? My problem, Frank, is that I like you. More than a best friend.”

Frank’s opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. The lie was obvious and flawed. Did Gerard actually think it was believable? Even the tears in Gerard's eyes were fake. It didn’t matter, though, because either way, Frank was speechless. He tried to verbalize his thoughts; let Gerard know that this wasn’t right.

In the end, it came out more along the lines of, “Guh...”

Gerard grinned, assuming he’d pretty much won. For a moment, he gazed into Frank's emerald crested eyes. Even in his poisoned state, he couldn't help but get a little hot. Frank was not an ordinary human. He had to be some sort of immortal being, sent from the angels. Gerard just wanted to kiss him. Really badly. Once again, he remembered that nobody could stop him. Before he could move in on the prey, his peripheral eyesight grabbed ahold of Ray Toro approaching him with a screaming Bert in a headlock, and Quinn following behind, not really doing anything to help. Gerard nearly laughed. His lip twitched for another reason, still peeving for that kiss. This time when he leaned in, his expression was thrilled. The whole scenario was so much more exciting now with people watching. Quickly, he grabbed Frank by the back of the head, forcing their mouths together. Frank reacted with an unexpectedly loud moan, while the three other men sort of stood there, staring. More than one heart was broken.
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Hey, thank you for your cute reviews. You made me grin. Next chapter outta be good...well, as good as it can be with me writing it.