A Craving

“Toro, wake up,” Frank nudged his fellow guitarist, who simply mumbled something and turned over. Why Ray was sleeping on his sofa was a different question altogether. In fact, it was a bit more than annoying that the entire band saw fit to use his and Mikey’s apartment as a hotel room last night. No one else had thought to buy any food either and they made a group decision to come over and eat whatever Frank was smart enough to buy now that they had some money.

It was even worse that last night was supposed to have been Frank and Gerard’s official second date. The day started out all right. Frank and Mikey went to the grocery store to pick up some necessities. Frank took the liberty of buying some tall candles and a bottle of sparkling peach cider for the evening, ignoring Mikey’s rather tasteless jokes. Who was he to talk anyway? That boy was whipped; he would have eaten his bass if Alicia told him to.

And after all was said and done, they had some money left and decided to spend it on apples. For the eight weeks that they were on tour with Underoath, Frank really wanted an apple. He didn’t know why. He just wanted an apple. Again, Mikey made fun of him, but again, Mikey was hardly any better--complaining that they couldn’t find any Coke Zero the whole time.

The date itself started out perfect as well. Gerard showed up right on time. Frank lit the candles. They smiled at each other, conversation flowing freely and cider perfectly bubbly. And then, as if on cue, Mikey burst in with Bob and Ray in tow, the latter helping himself to a bite of Gerard’s lasagna before making a face and settling down in front of the TV.

“Ray, what the hell?” Frank had asked indignantly.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” came the casual reply, a little too casual in Frank’s opinion. “I won’t bother you guys. Bob won’t either; he just had a tooth pulled.” The drummer nodded painfully.

Gerard look from Bob to Ray to Mikey in bewilderment. Mikey just shrugged. “They invited themselves.”

The elder Way raised an eyebrow. “They invited themselves on our date?” Mikey shrugged again. Frank let out a resigned sigh and looked apologetically at Gerard as they began to clear the table. And their official second date was officially ruined.

So after that fiasco, they decided to use his place as a sleep away camp? Jesus. “Ray, seriously. Wake up!” Frank shook him again, only to receive a confused slap on the ear.

“Don’t bother,” Gerard calmly turned the page of his newspaper. “You know as well as I do he won’t wake up until he decides to.” He turned another page. Frank looked at Gerard and then back at Ray. He knew Gerard was right.

“This,” the younger man gestured to his soundly sleeping friend, “is not what I had in mind for last night.”

Gerard waved it off with a bite of toast. “I already told you not to worry about it. Besides, we had fun last night. I liked having you cuddled up next to me.”

Frank sat down and smiled. “Well, you are very cuddly. Besides, that movie was scary.”

“I’m sure it was, Frankie.” They both knew full well it was an incredibly lame movie. “Coffee?”

The green-eyed man shook his head. “Nah, I’m going to go make some toast. And get an apple. Me and Mikey bought all these apples yesterday and I really want one.”

The taller man looked up from his paper. “You really want an apple?”

“Yeah. I’ve wanted one for the longest time. Like, for the last six weeks, I’ve had this incredibly weird craving for an apple.”

“You…craved an apple?” Gerard took a long gulp from his coffee as Bob waltzed out of the bathroom. “Hey.” Bob nodded in reply, holding his hand against his jaw.

Frank giggled. “Yeah, I know it sounds weird. You want one?”

Gerard immersed himself in the comics’ page. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

He was missing out. Those apples looked so good. But as Frank opened the fridge and drew out the fruit bin, he noticed it was empty. Perfectly empty; there wasn’t a single apple in sight. Sighing, he closed the fruit bin. Mikey must have put them somewhere; he was such a ditz sometimes. “Gerard,” he called from the kitchen, “Where’s Mikey?”

Frank heard the ruffle of newspaper before a pause and then, “I don’t know. Bob, where’s Mikey?” Frank sighed again. Well, if he couldn’t have an apple, apple juice was the next best thing. When he opened the cupboard for a glass, he found a note. From Mikey.

Hey guys. Uh, if you’re wondering where I am, I took Alicia out for a romantic breakfast. I’ll be back in a little while.

Mikey.

The guitarist rolled his eyes. Trust Mikey to leave a note in the most obscure place possible. He could have at least left it on the counter. Shaking his head, Frank a glass out of the cupboard, leaving the note there. The glass was dirty. This just kept getting better and better. As he took the glass to the sink, he noticed something even stranger than an empty fruit bin or a note in the cupboard: apple cores. The kitchen sink was full of apple cores.

Juice instantly forgotten, Frank stormed out of the kitchen angrily staring at the three men in his living room. Bob was watching the news, hand glued to his jaw, still in pain. Gerard was still reading the paper. And Ray, Ray was sitting up on the couch, rubbing his eyes. This was too much.

“Toro, what the hell? You come barging in on my date, you eat my food, you sleep on my couch and now you ate every single apple? Every single freaking apple is gone! Seriously dude, what the hell?”

Ray looked at him in bewilderment. “Huh?”

“You ate all my apples! Stop smirking Gerard; it’s not funny!” Frank glared at his new boyfriend who immediately went back to hiding behind the newspaper.

Ray continued to stare at him, utterly nonplussed. “What? I don’t even like apples.” He turned his attention to the TV. “Hey Bob, turn it to Comedy Central.”

Frank glared around the room once more before storming into his bedroom and slamming the door shut. Jesus. All right, maybe he was just upset because his date was ruined, but he was really looking forward to one of those apples. And now they were all gone. And who had eaten them? It wasn’t Bob; his mouth was in pain. It wasn’t Ray either; that man had no idea what was going on anyway. Frank lifted his head out of his hands. Why he was so obsessed with finding the culprit, he would probably never understand. But it was either Mikey or Gerard. It had to be.

There was a light rap on the door before the latter suspect let himself in. “Hey, Frankie.” Gerard sat down next to him and planted a light kiss on his cheek. Frank turned away. “Come on now, don’t be a baby.”

“It was supposed to be perfect,” Frank murmured, still not meeting his boyfriend’s eyes.

“It was perfect. It was better than perfect.” Gerard kissed his temple. “Really,” he insisted when Frank cast him a look.

“Well, it wasn’t perfect to me. It was supposed to be romantic. And then they all came in,” he gestured towards the door half-heartedly, "and ate your lasagna and blew out the candles.” Frank cuddled against Gerard’s shoulder. “And now all my apples are gone,” he finished with a pout.

Gerard put his arms around the shorter man. “They’re just apples.”

“I know. But I really wanted one.” He looked up into Gerard’s hazel eyes. “Did you eat my apples?”

Gerard laughed and Frank’s stomach began to flutter. “You know what? I think it was Mikey. I think he went on one of his crazy midnight hunger raids.”

Frank contemplated this a moment as he snuggled closer to the singer. “I think you’re right!” He sat up suddenly. “That son of a bitch went hungry last night and ate all my apples. Oh, when he gets home from that ‘romantic breakfast’ of his, he’ll wish he hadn’t eaten anything!” Frank’s green eyes went wild and twitchy with annoyance and frustration.

Gerard put his hands on Frank’s shoulders and began to massage them lightly. “Let’s not jump to conclusions, okay? I’ll tell you what. I will take you for a piggyback ride.” Frank stared for a moment. “I’m serious.” Gerard stood up and motioned towards his back. “Hop on; I’ll take you for a piggyback ride.”

Hesitantly, Frank mounted Gerard’s waist from behind and held tightly onto his shoulders. “You won’t drop me will you? I mean, I’m not exactly a little kid.”

Gerard turned his head and looked into Frank’s eyes. “No, but you’re fun-sized,” he smirked. He began to walk, staggering slightly as Frank flicked him lightly on the head for the fun-size comment.

“Hey guys,” they greeted Ray and Bob as they piggybacked past them, trying not to laugh at the looks they were receiving. Gerard pushed the door open and with Frankie still on his shoulders, wandered out onto the city street.

The outer wall of Frank and Mikey’s apartment building was disgusting. It was red brick and would have even looked charming had it not been stained with red betel spit, graffitied, and defaced in almost every way imaginable. It was in fact, the worst place in the world to stop for a break, but just before they reached the end of the wall, Gerard couldn’t support Frank any longer. Truthfully, Frank was a bit relieved to be on the ground himself. He wasn’t exactly used to being carried around.

“So how was the ride,” Gerard grinned childishly, pinning Frank towards the wall, right up against a spray-painted diagram of a smiling male reproductive system.

“It was…fun. In a weird way.” Frank giggled as Gerard pouted. “Okay, it was a lot of fun. I liked it.”

“How much?” Gerard’s hands found their way to Frank’s waist and were making themselves very comfortable there.

“A lot. I liked it a lot. You’re a very good horsie,” he said decisively, snaking his arms around Gerard’s neck.

“And do you feel better now?”
“Much better.” Frankie smiled in his trademark way. “I’d feel even better if I could snuggle you again.”

Green eyes looked into hazel and as if it had been planned, as if they’d both been dreaming about it for ages (they actually had), Gerard’s lips came crashing down upon Frank’s in a sweet, long, loving first kiss.

Gerard broke away, taking in a deep breath before kissing Frank again. “You taste really good,” he whispered.

Frank leaned forward and stole another kiss. “You don’t taste so bad yourself.” Another peck. “Gerard, I think you’re my favorite flavor.”

Taking that as invitation, the singer leaned forward and took his lover’s lips again before asking, with a smile playing across his pale features, “And just what flavor would that be?”

“I’m not quite sure,” the guitarist smiled back, threading his fingers through Gerard’s hair. “I’d need another sample to tell you exactly.” He smiled into the kiss. “You know what Gerard? You really do taste good. You taste just like—” The smile faded away instantly. “You little bitch! You taste like apples!” Frank untangled his hands from Gerard’s hair and shoved him away.

“I—I can…” Gerard trailed off. It was clearly a lost cause; he had the taste to prove it and his eyes were wide with a look that clearly said ‘guilty’.

“I don’t believe this!” Frank stomped ahead of Gerard, back to his apartment. The last two days had gone from bad to worse to just plain shitty. “I can’t believe you would eat all my apples after you know how much I wanted one and then lie to my face about it—blaming your brother, might I add—to my face while I was upset about last night. I just don’t believe it.”

“Frankie, look, I’m sorry. I was trying to cheer you up.” Frank turned around to see an apologetic-looking Gerard all but on his knees. Why did he have to be so cute? Frank narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t going to let that puppy-dog face sway him. He was going to be strong.

“Well, maybe you should have tried a different approach.” He yanked the door open violently as Ray and Bob scampered away for safety.

“Please. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”

“Or not.” With one last, disappointed look at Gerard, Frank slammed the door shut, trying his hardest to ignore the knocking and begging.

“Frankie! Please! I’m really sorry! Please let me in; I’ll get you some more apples. Really! I’m sorry!”