So This Is Love

“Before you get too comfortable, I just want to make sure that you're not allergic to cats,” I said to Frank as he gazed around my house.

“I'm not really allergic to anything but I stay sick a lot,” he said. “Oh, but I am allergic to capybaras. I found that out when my Dad dragged me to South America three years ago. I don’t even know why we went. It was completely pointless and I’d like those five days of my life back.”

I laughed. I've had a crush on every groom except for three that I've catered for. Why did Frank have to be so… charming?

“I have a spare bedroom that you can have for however long you're staying here. My cat’s name is Candice and as long as you don’t put anything in her bed, she’ll like you. My Dad put one of her toys in there and she attacked him. It wasn’t a pretty sight,” I said, making him giggle.

I walked him to the spare bedroom. I was now ever so thankful that my Mom pretty much forced me to get a two bedroom home instead of a one bedroom apartment like I insisted that I wanted. I was going to get her something great for her birthday. Frank walked over slowly and sat on the bed gently. He bounced up and down on it lightly, giving me very dirty images, and then just fell backwards. He let out a long sigh.

“This is what I could call home,” he said.

“You're more than welcome to,” I mumbled.

“What?” he asked, sitting up.

“Oh, um, I have some work to do,” I said quickly. “I’ll be down at the very end of the hall if you need me. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

I smiled at him before leaving. Unfortunately, I did have some work to do. As much as I love my job, I hate doing the actual paperwork and calculations and shit like that. It’s not much fun.

Frank Iero's Point of View

I was so happy to be out of the house! God. And the best part is, is that no one knows where I am. I wonder if I don’t answer my phone when my Mom calls if she’ll report me as missing. That'd be so funny to see. I'm evil. I had to pay Gerard back for this, seriously, but at the moment, I was hungry. He mentioning food made my stomach growl. I left my temporary room and walked around the house, admiring the pictures he had up on the wall and the decorations. Being a caterer must really pay off for him. Maybe, if I could get my parents to disown me or something, that I could be his partner in his business. Oh crap, but what if he doesn’t want a partner? I'm getting too ahead of myself.

I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. I was… impressed, to say the least, by his refrigerator. It was so incredibly neat and everything was in its place. Our fridge didn’t even look like this. We have leftovers that just sit there sometimes and everything’s kind of messed up. That’s one thing that my Mom doesn’t care about keeping neat in the house, which is kind of weird.

I looked through some of the food before deciding on these cute mini fruit bowls he had. They weren’t like tiny like the fruit cups at the supermarket, but maybe a little bit smaller than a cereal bowl. I wonder if these are for one of his customers… there are about fifteen of them.

“I should ask,” I said to myself, taking the fruit with me to the very back of the hall. It was like another small living area, but he turned it into some sort of office with a computer and other things.

“Hey, um, are these like reserved or something or can I have one?” I asked, holding up the bowl.

“Oh, you can have anything in the fridge. I don’t keep anything for my business in there. I get bored though and just make a lot of shit sometimes, which explains the fruit bowls,” he grinned.

“Nice,” I smiled, “thank you for your time.”

I walked back into the kitchen and then to the dining room and ate it pretty quickly. I instantly made a decision; if for some reason he ever went out of business, I would hire him as my personal chef.

*****

It’s only been three days and I have over one hundred missed calls from my Mom, fifteen from my Dad, and thirty voicemails from my Mom as well. The first few voicemails were her asking what time I was going to be home and then they later progressed to her being worried that I ran away, was kidnapped, and she even asked me if I was murdered, which wouldn’t make much sense if I was, but whatever. Gerard keeps telling me to call her, but I really don’t want to. He said that when he went over to finish up what would be on the main course, that she and Rachel both seemed on edge and just not themselves. He said that my Dad kind of smiled the whole time, so something tells me that he knows I'm safe and that he has an idea of what my plans are.

“Just call your Mom, at least. Let her know you're safe,” Gerard said as he walked through the door carrying bags upon bags of groceries.

“Do you need help with those?” I asked. I got up to follow him into the kitchen.

“Help would be nice, and don’t try to change the subject. You can live here forever for all I care, but you at least need to let your Mom know you're safe,” he said, breathing heavily as he practically dropped the bags on the counter in the kitchen. He looked at me after brushing some of his hair out of his face.

“But what if she yells at me?” I whined.

“Frank,” he said sternly, “you are a grown man. You should not be afraid to talk to your own mother, regardless if she’ll yell at you or not, understand? I'm gay and I don’t fall into the stereotype that gay men are sissies. If my mother is mad at me and she yells at me, I’ll take it like a man. I do not try to hide,” he lectured. He then walked over to me and started to dig in my front pockets. “Where’s your phone?” he asked.

“Back right pocket,” I grinned, knowing he wouldn’t do it… but he did. He smiled a “do you really want to test me?” type of smile and reached behind and actually dug in my back pocket, retrieving my phone. I stood there, open mouthed as he found my Mom’s number and called it, handing me the phone.

“You better talk to her or I’ll kick your ass,” he said before walking back outside to get more groceries.

“Frank, honey, is that you?” my Mom asked anxiously after she picked up her phone.

“It’s me,” I sighed, not wanting to talk to her.

“Oh my god! Honey, where’ve you been? Are you okay? Are you kidnapped?” she asked me worriedly.

“Mom, I'm fine, okay? I've been staying at a… friend’s place,” I said, staring at Gerard as he carried in more groceries. He winked at me before returning outside yet again.

“Who’s this friend? Do I know them? I really wish you'd come back home,” she said.

“Mom, I don’t think I can do that. I can't live there right now; it’s too constricting. It’s just… everything’s happening way too fast and it’s like I can't breathe. I’ll be home a week before the wedding though; there are still like four or five weeks left,” I said.

“Oh… okay, then. I’ll see you when you decide to become a man and grow up,” she said, ending the call.

“Ouch,” I said, closing my phone.

“Did it go bad?” Gerard asked. The front door was closed, so I assumed that he had gotten everything from his car.

“You could say that. She kinda belittled me. Okay, she really struck a fucking nerve, but that’s fine. As long as I don’t have to be around her right now, I’ll be okay,” I said. Gerard looked at me sadly before coming over to hug me. It was nice to have a hug; though I think that it lasted a bit longer than normal hugs do considering we were standing there for, what, five minutes at the most? I didn’t mind though; he was warm and cuddly. I felt so protected.